Date of Disaster
by Kimmy.Tosh
Summary: A father learns a lesson in love and his teenage son’s run of bad luck leads to a life threatening situation… …
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **The cannon characters depicted below are not my own creation; however original characters do belong to me. Thanks to Gerry Anderson for creating these wonderful characters and allowing us to continue their exploits.

**Authors Note: **This is the product of a conversation with MCJ, who I must thank for her continuous help and support.

**Date of Disaster**

A Valentines Fic by Kim

Whilst a father learns a lesson in love, his teenage son's run of bad luck leads to a life threatening situation… …

**Prologue**

Windscreen wipers swished at the falling sleet as Jeff Tracy pulled into the driveway and heaved a heavy sigh. The trip home tonight had been particularly draining; the conditions were awful. Winter had dragged on this year, seeming to just get colder and colder.

He shivered, as if reminding himself that even in the middle of February, spring seemed so far away. With a shudder, he turned the windscreen wipers and the lights off, and reached for the ignition.

He swiped a hand over his face and leant against the steering wheel.

"Valentines weekend," he mused sadly.

He remembered pulling into this very driveway ten years ago, to face a very different Valentines weekend.

In the years that had followed, it hadn't seemed to get any better. Instead, it was getting worse.

The fact that it was also Gordon's birthday usually served as an adequate distraction. These days he only had to contend with the constant reminders around him that, traditionally, this weekend was a weekend about love.

Love between partners, love between couples and love between a man and his wife. Valentines weekend had always been the weekend when his children went to spend time at their Grandmothers, while he and Lucy got to spend a very special evening alone.

He supposed at least the actual day was over now; he missed his late wife more than he could ever explain, and if it hadn't been for his precious sons needing him, he was sure he would have just given up after her death. His boys were what kept him going now, that and the memories of the good times he'd shared over the years with his beautiful young wife.

Not only did the thought of Gordon's birthday remind him of his five motherless little boys but also the struggle that, despite his best efforts, they all had to endure. He had to admit over the years, he'd come to hate this time of the year with vengeance; there were constant reminders everywhere.

It was the simple things that reminded him just how much he'd lost. The elder boys had developed an interest in female company early; he remembered Virgil receiving a mystery valentine's card and Scott ordering flowers for his girlfriend.

He smiled to himself; that one certainly hadn't lasted too damn long.

The smile faded. His mother had comforted him last year, as he reminisced in silence about the days when he sent flowers and chocolates, and had received nothing but a card signed with a question mark. Despite knowing the card had been from Lucy, he had always pretended to be surprised.

Valentines was over commercialised now; he frowned at the thought; the numerous billboards he'd passed on the way home, all depicting happy couples, and what a person needed to purchase to produce those magical happy smiles. They were all testament to the very concept that valentines was no longer about love; it was about who could make the most money.

Even the street vendor had offered to sell him an extortionately priced red rose and he'd sadly had to turn him down. The restaurants too, with their romantic music and subtle lighting were places he'd just had to walk past.

It all brought him to the same conclusion; the world stank when you didn't have a woman in your life.

If you didn't need red roses to send and you didn't have a need for restaurant reservations, it was just downright depressing. Quite frankly, if you didn't have anyone to love in your life then you didn't need anything worth while. And if that was indeed the case; reality was the cruellest revelation of all, because this weekend, he concluded, like the ones it had followed, there would be no love, there would be no togetherness and there would be no Lucy.


	2. One

**A/N**: Thank you to those who commented on the prologue, I appreciate you letting me know your thoughts.

**Chapter ONE:**

Jeff heaved another sigh. Reaching for the briefcase on the seat beside him, he pulled his collar up against the elements and opened the car door, trudgnig his way across the driveway to the back door.

The wind whistled and his long wool coat billowed behind him. He was tired, and barely registered the flashing of the car lights; signifying the automatic lock had been activated behind him.

He reached the door with a shiver and then stepped into the warmth of the well lit porch. Placing his briefcase on the floor, he savoured the smell of food that dominated the warm, fragrant air. He couldn't help but notice his stomach was growling.

"Home," he acknowledged, glancing at his watch. "Just in time for supper."

Before he reached the kitchen, he could hear the familiar sounds of his two youngest sons bickering; 'typical' he thought with a rueful sparkle in his eye. Despite the sadness he knew this weekend held in store for him, an infectious smile tickled at his lips. He stepped inside and the chorus of greetings that followed just widened his smile, causing him to shake his head. Gordon and Alan immediately skidded to a halt in front of him, leaving Scott to finish setting the dinner table himself.

"Dad, you're home!" Alan smiled excitedly, as Jeff responded by reaching forward to ruffle his hair.

"Yes son, I'm home." He grinned at the expectation in the young blonde boy's eyes as he turned his attention to ruffling Gordon's hair too. "Scott," he nodded, acknowledging his eldest son's presence. "Don't let me interrupt you boys," he signalled to the table, encouraging them to go back to their task.

Leaving his sons to set the table, he headed over to where his mother was juggling pots and pans in order to cook supper. She seemed flustered enough and, not wanting to disturb her, he waited until she'd finished stirring the saucepan in front of her.

"Mother," he greeted, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

"You're late Son," she commented, sympathy held in her eyes. "It looks mighty cold out there. This'll warm you up…" she gestured to the pan on the stove and Jeff inhaled the source of the scents that filled the room.

"Hmm, it smells gorgeous Mom," he grinned as he leant back against one of the work surfaces. "How have things been?" he kept a watchful eye on Alan and Gordon's arguing as he spoke.

"Fine Jeff, fine," she smiled with that sparkle in her eyes that she always seemed to have. "You worry too much when you're away; it's only been three days! Scott's been looking at options for when he finishes college already. He's been talking about the Air Force again; I think he has a short list that he wants you to look at with him. Virgil's hardly been here all week," she raised her eyebrows pointedly, her eyes reiterating the disapproval in her tone. "He's spent most evening's round at Sofia's, coming in at all hours!" she exclaimed. Jeff frowned as he began munching on a piece of bread off the counter. She reached a hand out and slapped him lightly on the wrist. "You'll ruin your appetite," she removed the bread basket, holding it out to her eldest grandson. "Scott, put this on the table will you," she requested as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Sure Grandma," the older boy replied, taking the basket from her and turning back to pacifying his squabbling brothers.

"He's been a good boy this week," she said fondly. Jeff's smile widened with pride as his mother went on.

"Running all his brothers around so as I didn't have to drive in this horrible weather," she joined Jeff and leant back against the counter. "I don't know what I would have done without him. Thank goodness he's on vacation, especially with Virgil hardly being here and John not being well."

"John's not well?" Jeff frowned at her, "You never said when I called." He didn't bother trying to explain to his mother that this week was hardly a 'vacation' for Scott and that he should have been studying.

"Yes well, I didn't want you to worry. He's fine Jeff, he's justcoming down with a cold."

When it became apparent that her words hadn't done much in the way of satisfying her son's concern, she went on. "Gordon's already had it, you know that. Well, I knew as soon as he started with the headache that it'd be the same thing," she shook her head in exasperation. "It'll be Alan next, just wait and see."

"Is Alan okay?" Jeff's frown only deepened.

"Oh yes, he's fine for now. Though I'll warn you, a couple of his friends are going mini-karting next weekend and he'll want to go Jeff. You know what he's like."

Jeff nodded, "Yes I do, I'll talk to him about it later." Spotting a bubbling pan, he turned back to his mother "Erm, Mom, should that pan be doing that?" he pointed at the object.

"Hmm?" she casually looked across to the stove as the pan began to boil over. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she tended to it.

Feeling redundant, Jeff turned back to where Scott had managed to get Gordon and Alan to compromise, "Where are Virgil and John?"

Scott looked up to his father, ""Upstairs, John's in his room, he was working on an assignment but he had a headache, so I told him to give it a rest. Virgil's up in his room too, he was on his computer earlier. He's practically been glued to the screen since he got in." Scott glared at his father under raised eyebrows. "He's talking to Sofia," he finished with a snarl.

It seemed Scott wasn't that impressed with his brother, which surprised Jeff. The relationship between his two eldest sons was so close.

"You don't like her much do you?" Jeff observed, ironically noting the understatement in his own words.

"She's using him but he can't see it," Scott shook his head in frustration and continued. "She's not a very nice person Dad; you'd see that if you met her. She's only interested in the money."

"Virgil's a sensible boy Scott, I'm sure he wouldn't be spending so much time with her if she wasn't a nice person," Jeff trusted his second eldest son's judgement; Virgil was usually a good judge of character.A more likely thought struck him. "I suppose Virgil's been spending a lot of time with this Sofia, huh?"

Scott, as always, saw straight through him, "I'm not jealous!" he denied quickly. "Dad, I'm not!" he scowled. "I just don't want to see him get hurt that's all."

"I'm sure Virgil can look after himself son," Jeff assured him. "Have you spoken to him about your … concerns?" Scott glared up at his father once more, eliciting a grin. "I thought so. And I don't suppose he took it too well."

Scott shrugged, playing with the edge of the table cloth. "He thinks I'm interfering."

Jeff nodded, he was about to reply when his mother called, "Jeff dear, will you go and fetch John and Virgil for me?" She turned to Scott, "Where have Alan and Gordon gone now? They just can't sit still for more than two minutes!"

"They've just gone to wash their hands Grandma," Scott smiled at her.

"Well I suggest you do the same young man," she nodded at Scott before turning back to her stove.

Jeff and Scott exchanged glances before the older man swiped a piece of bread off the table and headed upstairs. He shook his head at Scott's concern; it was an unfortunate fact that as his sons got older they would gain their own individual lifestyles. He reached John's door; his boys were growing up and sad as that fact was, he had to accept it.

"John, how are you feeling son?" he said as he perched on the bed alongside his blonde son. John looked up from where he was laying on his front, reading a book, only for his father to remove it and place it on the bedside table.

"Dad!" he sat up smiling. "When did you get back?" he asked, suddenly energetic.

"Oh about …" Jeff glanced at this watch. "About half an hour ago. Grandma says you're not feeling too well, what's up?" he reached a hand up to John's brow and frowned. "You feel a bit hot."

"I'm okay," John shrugged before he sniffled. "I think I'm getting that flu thing Gordon had just before his birthday."

"Well, supper's going to be ready in a minute," Jeff reached out to the book his blonde son had been reading. "After you've eaten, I think maybe you should have an early night. Get plenty of rest." When John nodded in agreement, he studied the book, "The solar system, huh?"

John nodded, "Yeah, I'm reading it for a science project about the planets."

"Really?" Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Well, as interesting as I can see that is. I think you'd better leave it for tonight. If you're not feeling too good, just get a good nights rest."

John nodded obediently.

"Good," Jeff nodded. "Now why don't you wash your hands and go down for supper. I'm going to get Virgil and then I'll be right down."

"Sure Dad," John replied as Jeff got to his feet and made his way across the hall to Virgil's room.

Jeff could hear the laughing and soft giggling from through the door and hesitated for a few minutes wondering whether he'd be interrupting. He pushed open the door and poked his head round, hoping Virgil would be pleased to see him after his trip. "Hi son," he greeted as he walked in.

"Oh, hi Dad." Virgil barely registered his father's presence. "No, it's just my Dad." Virgil turned back to the screen and Jeff raised his eyebrows at the use of the word 'just' as he perched on Virgil's bed. "Sure, I told you I'll be there. I know, and I know how important it is to you."

"Virgil," Jeff waited patiently for his son's full attention.

"Listen, I've got to go. I'll talk to you online again later," he finished quickly, becoming aware that his father's patience was running out. Jeff couldn't hear Sofia's reply on the screen of the laptop computer, judging by the way Virgil coloured though; he assumed that was a good thing. "Yeah, you too Honey, Virgil was replying. "No, you disconnect," he said coyly. "No, you."

Jeff heard his mother shout that supper was ready again in the background. "I'll disconnect in a minute," he growled to himself as Virgil turned to him.

"I don't appreciate being ignored," he said sternly, watching Virgil hide from his gaze.

"I'm sorry Dad, I was just…" Virgil tried to explain.

"I know exactly what you were just doing." Jeff interrupted him, the insinuation that he'd heard the entire conversation caused Virgil to colour again and he looked away embarrassed. "Don't do it again."

"Yes Sir," came the respectful reply.

"Supper's ready. Now, let's go and get some before your brothers eat it all," Virgil nodded and they both got to their feet. As he walked past the computer, Jeff spied something that caused him to sigh in aggravation, "Virgil, what have I told you about having drinks around this computer?"

The second eldest of his sons was a gifted musician, but was not well known for his elegance.

"Do you have any idea how much that computer cost?" Jeff continued.

"I know Dad," Virgil protested as they made their way down the stairs. "I'm real careful when I have it there, but I'll move it away when I come back up."

"You make sure you do," Jeff directed as they took their seats at the table.

The bustle of supper time was in full flow as the family sat down together for the first time in three days. Conversation was centred on the boys' activities and how they'd been behaving in his absence. Jeff smiled contentedly as they all battled to gain those few extra seconds to tell him about their achievements.

John was noticeably quiet as he picked at his food and Virgil didn't say much either, though it was rather obvious his thoughts were somewhere entirely different.

"You okay over there John?" Jeff enquired, the young blonde boy's head shot up at the mention of his name.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah Dad. I'm just not very hungry that's all," he shrugged, pushing his plate away. "It's really nice Grandma, it's just I'm not feeling too good."

"Try and eat a little more Sweetie," Grandma encouraged, reaching out to ruffle his blonde locks. "You need to keep your strength up."

"Your Grandmother's right John," Jeff looked across at him with nothing but concern.

"I'll eat it, if Johnny doesn't want it!" Gordon piped up with a huge grin. When Scott looked at him with disapproval, Gordon frowned. "What?" he exclaimed, staring at his big brother. "Grandma always says we shouldn't waste food and that people starve in other countries."

"Yeah Scott. Didn't you know that?" Alan was jumping to his partner in crime's defence. "Grandma says we should appreciate what we have," the young blonde smiled smugly before he thought the theory through. He turned to his copper haired brother, leaning forward to get Gordon's attention. Scott had solved their dispute by having them sit on either side of their father and now he was the only obstruction between them. "Gordy, I think I'd better eat it. You might get too heavy and sink," Alan said thoughtfully.

"That's so stupid!" Gordon replied. "You don't sink because you're too heavy."

"Yes you do. Heavy things sink," Alan frowned petulantly at his brother. "You're the one that's stupid!" he pouted.

"Now boys, don't argue," Jeff Tracy's stern voice cut the argument straight down the middle. "And don't call each other names."

Scott sighed and turned his attention to Virgil, who seemed to be in a world of his own. Scott stared at him waiting for him to look up but Virgil was too deep in thought to notice his brother. Scott had a good idea just what was on his brother's mind too. Getting tired of waiting, Scott kicked him under the table. "Don't jump to my aid or anything Virg," he muttered sarcastically.

"Hmm?" Virgil turned to face him, ignoring the comment and looking up at their father, "Dad, I'm going to leave in about half an hour to pick Sofia up. Where are your car keys?" Scott rolled his eyes, but luckily no-one noticed.

Jeff opened his mouth to reply but Gordon beat him to it. "His car keys," he frowned. "What do you want his car keys for?"

Virgil looked down on his brother and said in the most condescending manner, "Oh gee, I don't know… Maybe because I'm taking his car tonight."

"Virgil, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," Grandma tutted and shook her head.

"Yeah Grandma," Virgil got to his feet, pecking her on the cheek as he took his plate across to the sink. "But it's the funniest," he leant against one of the work surfaces and grinned.

"Cheek like that young man and you'll be doing the washing up tonight, before you go anywhere!" She waggled a finger at him, a gentle smirk loitering beneath the surface, "Funniest indeed!"

"Grandma, it's John's turn to do the washing up tonight," Alan protested; worried the task would be laid at his feet. "Me and Gordy did it last night."

"Gordon and I, Alan," Grandma corrected as she began clearing the table. She piled plates on top of each other, only briefly stopping to raise her hand to John's brow. "I think you'd better get off to bed young man," she frowned down at him. "I'm sure I can manage tonight."

"I'll help you Grandma," Scott smiled at her. Virgil rolled his eyes at his older brother. The unusual sense of unease between the eldest two, subtle as it was, didn't go unnoticed by Jeff.

"Thank you Scott," the elderly lady replied. "But don't think I don't know what you're up to either! I hate to disappoint you son but…" she lowered her tone to a near whisper, "there isn't any apple pie left tonight." Virgil grinned and raised a pointed eyebrow at Scott's scowl.

"Virgil can't take your car, Dad." Gordon was turning to his father, a troubled expression on his face, "You said you'd take me swimming."

"He said I could have the car to take Sofia out, first!" Virgil exclaimed, suddenly not so relaxed in his stance against the work surface.

"No, he said he'd take me swimming first!" Gordon replied, crossly. "Daddy you promised," he whined. "Besides, it was my birthday," he fluttered his eyelashes.

"Yeah it was your birthday," Virgil replied, the emphasis on the past tense. "It's not your birthday today Gordon. Stop being such an idiot!"

"Virgil!" Jeff interrupted. "Don't call your brother names, now apologise."

"I'm sorry," Virgil stated without meaning. "But Dad," he continued to whine in the same way Gordon had. "You promised me first!" Virgil's eyes widened at the thought of not being able to take his father's prestigious Bugatti. Jeff let his head drop into his hands as his second eldest and second youngest sons began to argue. "Sofia thinks she's going to get a ride in a Bugatti, I promised her Father!"

"I bet you did," Scott muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, Virgil turned angry eyes in his brother's direction and Scott realised that perhaps the comment had been a little louder than he'd intended.

"Boys, boys!" Jeff held his hands up in surrender. "Stop!" He closed his eyes, "I did promise Gordon on his birthday that I'd take him to his swimming practice tonight. I'm sorry Virgil, I forgot."

"Told you so," Gordon muttered, folded his arms smugly.

"Aw but Dad…" Virgil's eyes grew wide with disappointment. "Sofia's expecting me to pick her up in something nice, we're …" he trailed off. "I promised her Dad! I need that car tonight," his tone of voice demonstrated his desperation to impress.

Jeff glanced across at Scott's expression before replying. The eldest of his sons raised his eyebrows as if Virgil had just confirmed what he'd said earlier.

"Son," Jeff began patiently. "I'm sure Sofia's spending time with you, not the car. She'll understand," one look at Scott's raised eyebrows, suggested he doubted that but nonetheless he went on. "Material things like the car aren't important as long as you're together."

"But Dad, she deserves it. She deserves the best, and only the best," that was a line he'd had drilled into him and Scott couldn't keep his scoff silent at the comment. He disguised as best as he could, by feigning a sudden fit of coughing.

"Well, I'm sure she sees that she's got the best already. In having you for her boyfriend Son," Jeff emphasised . He'd ignored Gordon's smug grin to begin with, but now he turned a disapproving glance on his second youngest that wiped the expression away.

"Well the way that storms coming in," Grandma was complaining from the sink. "None of you should be going anywhere," she shook her head and continued to wash up. "Scott, use that dish cloth," she directed; Scott dutifully got to his feet and began drying the dishes.

"Dad you don't understand. I promised her and you always said we shouldn't go back on our promises," Virgil was whining again. "If I can't take that car tonight Father, I might as well not go at all."

"Now, come on Virgil," Jeff was bartering. "There's no need to be like that. I'll drop you off wherever you need to go when I take Gordon. You just call your friend and tell her you'll be a little late. I'll pick you up later."

Virgil sighed mournfully, before shaking his head. "No," he ground out. "It's okay Dad. I'll go and cancel."

"I'm sorry Son, I completely forgot that I'd promised Gordon," Jeff watched Virgil's mood turn sour with regret and couldn't help feeling a little guilty himself. "I could still take you," he added again.

"No, it's fine. Thanks Dad, but I'd better go and break the bad news," Virgil traipsed out of the room leaving Gordon grinning satisfactorily but a sad, guilty atmosphere in his wake.

"I'm going to bed," John announced as he followed his brother upstairs.

"I'll get my stuff ready Dad," a gleeful Gordon announced before he pushed himself away from the table and ran after his two elder brothers.

With a heavy sigh, Jeff got to his feet. "Y'know I'm not the only one with a car in this household," he said as he passed a few glasses to his mother to wash up.

Scott turned to his father, aghast at the insinuation. "Oh come on Dad, you know no one drives that car but me," he shrugged as he reached to put crockery in a cupboard. "Besides, I doubt my old Porsche is in the same class as your Bugatti. Something tells me Sofia is expecting something with a bit more of a price tag."

"Come on Scott, I wouldn't ask normally but you saw how disappointed he was," Jeff took the dried plates off his son and began putting them away. "It'd mean a lot to him, and it'd mean a lot to me too. I feel terrible that I let him down. It's my fault."

"Then why don't I take Gordon to practice and then Virg can still have your car?" Scott raised an eyebrow expectant of a reply from his father. Instead, it came from Alan who still sat at the table.

"Scott, Gordon's going to a state team practice. He doesn't want to be seen in that old rust bucket at the best of times but in front of his team mates …" he trailed off with a shake of the head.

Scott narrowed his eyes and turned to face his youngest brother. "What did you just say…" he threatened. Alan merely laughed and waved an unflustered hand at his brother before walking away.

"Scott," Jeff placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'd appreciate it and I know Virgil would."

"Aw but Dad…"

"Don't whine Scott, I get enough of that from your brothers," Jeff nearly snapped. "If you can't do it for Virgil, do it for me."

Scott looked at his father indecisively, "Oh okay, but I swear I know where every single mark on that car is. If it comes back with so much as an extra scratch on the paintwork, so help me I'll…."

"Okay Scott," Jeff smiled at him approvingly. "I get the picture, now why don't you go and tell him the good news."

"Sure," Scott nodded, as he headed upstairs to his brother's room.

"Have you seen the weather?" Jeff turned to his mother at her loud tut of disapproval. "Jeff, I don't thing you should be driving in those conditions, let alone Virgil. Why, he hasn't had his licence that long."

"Mother you worry too much," Jeff told her as he peered out the window at the lashings of rain that hit the window, and the howling wind. "I'm a good driver and Virgil's more than competent. Besides, he needs to be able to drive in all conditions; you can't shy away from doing things just because you don't like it."

"Hmm, well I don't think anyone should be going anywhere tonight! He's certainly devoted to be going all that way in this weather!" She bristled as she scrubbed at her pans in the sink. "What that boy sees in that girl, is beyond me."

"You know what Mom, I'm beginning to think I agree with you and I haven't even met her yet." Jeff growled out.

XxxxX

"I meant what I said you know," Scott heard her say through the door. The female voice had caused him to hesitate; it wasn't something you heard much in the Tracy household anymore. "I'm really looking forward to tonight; it's going to be the best night ever. I can't wait to put our plans into action," she giggled excitedly.

"I know. Me neither," Scott heard his brother reply. "But there's been a bit of a set back."

"A set back?" Scott frowned at Sofia's incredulous screech in reply. So different to the eager, energised tones he had heard a few minutes ago. "What kind of set back? You've got the car haven't you?"

He practically heard his brother wince before replying, "Kind of." Scott frowned; Virgil was avoiding telling her the truth, for fear of her reply he assumed.

"Kind of? How can you 'kind of' have it? You either have or you haven't," she snapped back. "Look, Virgil," she said slyly, her voice taking on a new, softer approach. "If you've changed your mind about me …"

"No!" Virgil denied. Scott shook his head at how desperate his younger brother was coming across. "No that's not it! I…I haven't, I just… Well, I'm going to be a bit late that's all."

"How late?" Sofia's reply came callously. "You'd better not get here too late, or else I might find someone else," she teased. "Though I guess turning up in style will make up for it," her tone changed to an impulsive one as the conversation moved back to the car again. Through the door, Scott was just shaking his head; he had to inch closer as her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's not like you're going to let me down, Virgin."

"Sofia, I told you not to call me that." Scott was amazed at the sudden anger in his brother's tone. Virgil was well known for being tolerant; he was particularly hard for the younger two to antagonise and rarely lost his temper.

"Why? You going to prove me wrong?" her sultry reply had Scott's eyebrows rise and his head nearly hit the door.

"That thing you did the other night…" Virgil's reply was low too, soft and filled with aspiration. Scott listened more out of an inability to stop, than any great need to hear. However, he suddenly saw where Virgil's big attraction in Sofia stemmed from.

"You want me to do it again?" she asked, seductively. "Imagine that in your Dad's car, it'd be like…" Scott had heard enough and walked in without so much as a knock.

"Scott!" Virgil exclaimed as he stood up in a fluster. As he did, his arm knocked against the glass of water on his desk. It toppled drunkenly from side to side and water sloshed onto the desk.

As if it was all happening in slow motion, the glass lurched away from the computer and then back again, coming down on the keypad of the compact device and expelling the remains of its contents. "Damnit!" Virgil cursed as he reached for the glass and quickly righted it.

"If that's Scott, I'll talk to you late…" was the computers distorted response as the screen went black and the fan that had been whirring in the background stopped with a whine.

"Damnit Scott!" Virgil shouted angrily at his brother, as he tipped the computer forward. "Now, look what you made me do!"

"I'm sorry," Scott said in the face of his brother's fury. "But you know you shouldn't have drinks round it for this very reason!" He rushed to help Virgil as he attempted to drain the water out of the main console.

"Yeah, and you should have knocked! That was a private conversation!" Virgil returned as he placed the computer back down on the desk. Having shaken it on its side, he presumed that no more water could come out of it and was frantically pressing the start up key.

His prayers that the computer would spring back to life were not answered.

"Is it working?" Scott peered over his shoulder. Relations with his brother weren't exactly at an all time high. He feared Virgil's new interest in girls was replacing the time they had once spent together. He had spent many a night wondering if the same thing had happened when he was Virgil's age; not quite old enough to be an adult yet not young enough to be classed as a teenager anymore.

"Does it look like it's working?" Virgil growled. He was gesturing at the blank screen, whilst Scott grabbed a nearby box of tissues and began mopping up the mess on the desk. After several failed attempts at starting it up, Virgil sat on his bed. Dropping his head to his hands and weaving his fingers through his mass of chestnut curls. "Oh God," he sighed in despair. "What am I going to do? Dad's going to kill me!"

"Calm down," Scott sat beside him, he secretly sympathised with his brother. In typical Tracy style, when one thing went wrong, everything else followed. "We'll leave it to dry out and try again in the morning. Maybe there's some water inside it, it might need time to evaporate," Scott suggested. "We'll get John to take a look at it."

Virgil nervously glanced at his watch. "How long do you think it's been since I did it, maybe it'll start now," he reached forward to the desk, but Scott grabbed his shoulder.

"Just leave it, okay? Forget about it," Scott shrugged. "Put it over there near the heater, not too close. We'll try it again in the morning," he felt Virgil slump beside him miserably. "If the worst happens and it's broken; we'll get you another one."

"Dad's going to hit the roof," Virgil growled out, mournfully. "He told me to move that glass earlier and I didn't," he ran a hand over his head. "And Sofia'll think I disconnected on her!"

Scott scowled at the name; he forced himself to be civil where she was concerned. She had already been the cause of one discussion too many between him and his closest brother. His opinion of her wasn't going to change, despite Virgil's attempts at convincing him. "What did you say to her, about the car?" he played dumb.

"I didn't really get round to telling her that I can't go, Scott she really wants me to take her out in that car," the younger boy groaned. "If I don't turn up in with the Bugatti tonight, I'm finished."

"Virg, you're young and naïve. Don't you think she's a bit…" Scott searched for the right word cautiously. "Money orientated. If she really cared about you, it wouldn't matter how you got to the party so long as you were there."

"I'm not naïve! She does care about me!" Virgil frowned at him, jumping to his girlfriends defence. "She just deserves the better things in life. She loves me," Scott raised his eyebrows and Virgil added quickly, "She does, she said so."

"She might have said it, but did she mean it?" Scott suggested as gently as he felt he could. It was painfully obvious to him that the relationship Sofia and Virgil had wasn't based on love. However deep down inside, he knew he'd had to learn the hard way and so would Virgil. He just wished his brother had picked a better person to learn with. He often wondered how, if he'd been around to advise his brother, maybe things would be different.

"Of course she did!" Virgil exclaimed in reply. "She wouldn't say it if she didn't. Don't start with me Scott; I'm not in the mood. You're just jealous because I'm dating an older woman and you haven't got anyone!"

"Woman!" Scott scoffed. "She's not even my age!"

"She's a woman Scott, trust me," Scott raised his eyes at that comment, not needing to wonder just what his brother meant.

Before Sofia had come along, they had never been anything other than open with one another. Virgil knew everything about him and he trusted him implicitly, with details of every aspect of his life. Scott had always assumed his brother felt the same. He hoped that at such a crucial time in Virgil's journey into adulthood, he wouldn't hesitate to confide in him. However, of late, Virgil had been increasingly secretive and the knowledge that Scott didn't approve of his relationship with Sofia had built a brick wall between them that, try as they might, they just couldn't ignore.

"What do you mean by that?" Scott frowned, not so much surprised by the comment but the secrecy it was laced with.

"Nothing," Virgil shrugged. "Just that she's a lady, she knows how to behave and she wouldn't lie to me."

"Virgil," Scott began. He fully understood what his brother had really meant, and refused to accept the lame excuse he'd just been given. "You know, you're just a kid. You're blinded by what you think is love, it's not; its just lust. Don't go doing anything you're going to regret."

"Don't patronise me, I'm not a kid, Scott!" Virgil argued back. "And I know what I'm doing."

The way Virgil said that, Scott had to wonder just what his brother had been getting up to this last week. Spending all those evenings round at Sofia's. "Have you slept with her?" he asked bluntly.

"Scott!" Scott was surprised when Virgil blushed, embarrassed by the question. The younger boy turned angry eyes on his brother. "That's none of your damned business!" he shook his head. "What happens between me and Sofia, stays between me and Sofia."

The very idea that Scott expected him to reveal all, made Virgil angry. After Scott had left for college, Virgil had been truly alone. He'd lost his best friend and despite Scott's regular 'phone calls, he still felt there was a huge gap in his life. Sofia had filled the void; she'd occupied him and she'd been someone to talk to. Now, as far as Virgil saw it, Scott thought he could just waltz back home and everything would go back to the way it was before.

Some of the things Scott had said about her were true; he had to admit to that, there was no denying it.

She could be selfish and she could be demanding, but she made up for that by treating him like an adult.

To begin with, maybe she'd been a distraction from life at home without Scott. However, he'd soon slipped into relying on her; needing her to make him feel complete. She was a breath of fresh air to him; the complete opposite of his father's moral preaching's and everything he wasn't supposed to look for in a girlfriend. Yet, a part of him enjoyed the attention she brought him and the fact the she was a little errant, made her even more alluring.

Scott was frankly surprised at the ferocity of the reply that came. A couple of months ago, he'd have got a very different answer and Virgil certainly wouldn't have felt embarrassed.

"Virgil, just …" Scott sighed. "Just use your head, not your…." he trailed off, leaving Virgil to complete that sentence himself. Honestly, he was a little upset that Virgil wasn't going to confide in him, but he still felt it was his place to provide a warning. "Be careful."

"What did you come up here for anyway?" Virgil didn't want to discuss the matter with his older brother.

"I was going to say, if it'd help you out with Sofia…" he swallowed. "You could borrow my car tonight."

Virgil's head snapped up in surprise. "Really?" he asked incredulously.

The reason Scott Tracy didn't have a steady girlfriend right now, was simply because he was in love already….

With his car.

Hell would freeze over whilst simultaneously becoming infested with flying pigs before Scott would hand over the keys to his pride and joy.

"Yeah," Scott nodded, smiling at the surprise and relief in Virgil's voice. "But on one condition; you bring it back with so much as a scratch Virgil and I'll make your life a living hell," he threatened, deadly serious.

Virgil hesitated for a second, thinking this offer through. Part of him knew how much Scott meant that threat and another part was wondering if an old Porsche would be good enough for Sofia. Eventually he smirked; it would have to do and besides, it wasn't like Porsche's were two a penny.

He refrained from voicing his concerns, knowing that the smallest insinuation that Scott's car wasn't good enough, would cause him to revoke the offer. He knew how much the car meant to Scott and the hours of hard work they'd both put in on it, was testament to Scott's devotion. It might've been the oldest car in their street, but it was in better condition than the majority of more prestigious cars that lined the other driveways. And there wasn't the smallest nick in the paintwork.

"Thanks Scott!" Virgil bounced with energy, he leant forward and placed an over emphasised, sloppy kiss on his brother's face. "You're the best! I'll be really careful with it, I promise."

"Yuck!" Scott wiped a hand across his face, "You'd better! Otherwise, I might be taking your car for a spin when you finally get it!" He warned as he got to his feet, "Over a nice high cliff!"

The subject of Virgil's car was an ongoing joke in the household. Though their father had told them they would all get the same contribution towards their first cars. Virgil had decided that a car wasn't enough. Never into anything small, he'd set his sights on a big, four wheeled drive truck. Scott had been horrified at the thought of the monstrosity sat on the driveway alongside his precious Porsche, and had entered into a debate with his father about where it was to be housed.

Luckily, despite the fact it was supposed to be ready by Christmas, the vehicle still hadn't arrived. So despite gaining his licence, Virgil remained transport-less and still had to rely on others to go where he wanted. Much to his aggravation.

Virgil was too relieved to be listening to his brother's threats. Instead, he was rummaging through his wardrobe, fishing out clothes. He'd already stripped his top off by the time Scott reached the door.

"I'll be downstairs when you're ready." Scott smiled.

At least he was leaving a happier Virgil behind, he thought to himself. He only hoped it stayed that way.


	3. Two

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter, as always your comments are much appreciated.

**Chapter TWO:**

Virgil was just finishing his hair when Gordon popped his head around the bedroom door. "Yuck!" Gordon groaned, screwing his nose up. "It stinks in here," he said as he stepped inside.

"Go away Gordon, I'm busy," Virgil replied, without even looking at his brother.

"Don't be so mean!" the copper haired little boy responded. "I was only saying!"

"Yeah well, so am I!" Virgil turned to face his brother, "What do you want anyway?"

"Don't be nasty to me," Gordon folded his arms across his chest and pouted. "It's not my fault Dad promised you, after he promised me."

"Whatever," Virgil replied, raising a hand. "Shouldn't you be leaving, it'll take you about two hours to get there, won't it?"

Gordon nodded. "I just came to tell you we were about to go," he hovered around the door, obviously waiting for something else.

"Okay," Virgil stood up and placed his 'phone and wallet in either pocket. "Me too."

Gordon glowered at his brother's unusual lack of thought. "Virg…" he insisted, leaning against the doorframe as Virgil walked towards him. "Don't you want to say something to me?"

Virgil raised his eyebrows indignantly. "I'm not apologising Gordon. The reason I needed Dad's car tonight was much more important than your stupid swimming practice," he growled. "So if you're waiting there for an apology, you'll be waiting a long time," he finished with a huff.

"I do so deserve an apology! Swimming isn't stupid!" Gordon looked at his brother with distaste as Virgil pushed passed him and headed down the stairs. His younger brother was hot on his heels, "Virgil! It's important. Don't you want to wish me good luck?"

"Good luck?" Virgil shook his head as he reached the bottom of the stairs and walked through into the kitchen to retrieve his jacket. "It's just a practice!"

Jeff parted from where he and Scott spoke to turn to the ruckus. "Dad, Virgil won't wish me good luck. Tell him!" Gordon turned to face the counter where his older brother and his father stood.

"It's just a practice!" Virgil raised his hands in defence at Scott's glare and his father's disapproving expression. "What kind of luck does he need?"

"It's not just a practice; the coach is picking the team tonight," Gordon sulked in his father's direction.

"Wish him good luck Virg," Scott warned, he reached his hand into his pocket and fingered his car keys. The gesture drew Virgil's attention and it was enough to prompt him into action.

"Fine," Virgil sighed. "Good luck Gordon," he said to his younger brother before turning back to Scott and holding his hand up again. "Can I go now?"

Reluctantly Scott threw him the keys, which he deftly caught. "Go steady with it."

"Yeah I know!" Virgil smiled in Scott's direction. "And I appreciate it."

"Be careful," Scott cautioned, meeting Virgil's gaze and conveying his meaning.

"I always am!" the younger boy grinned as he headed out of the front door and into the blizzard.

Scott watched him from the kitchen window as Virgil headed over to his most prized possession and, battling against the wind, clambered inside the small car. Scott then waited patiently to hear the familiar sounds of the engine strike up. Studying the car like a hawk watching it's prey, he watched Virgil reverse passed their fathers Bugatti and out of the driveway. Scott continued to observe until the black Porsche disappeared from view. He turned to his father. "Can I ask you something Dad?" he asked.

"Gordon, are you ready?" Jeff called into the lounge, where the second youngest of his sons had disappeared. In the same moment, he faced Scott, "What?"

Scott gestured to the back door, "Was I like that when I was his age?"

Jeff smiled. "I can remember you and Eloise spending an awful lot of time together," he grinned. "You hardly spent a night at home that summer."

"Hmm," Scott leant forward on the counter, pensively. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Come on Gordon!" Jeff shouted out the kitchen door, before he walked over to Scott and leant next to him against the counter. "It's just a phase he's going through Scott; he's a teenager."

"John's a teenager too, he's not like that!" Scott said glumly, looking up to his father for some guidance. "Virgil doesn't even talk to me anymore."

"John'll go through the same thing, you mark my words. Trust me on this one Scott, Virgil's a teenager," Jeff shook his head, repeating the words. "And teenagers don't talk to anyone."

"I did," Scott sulked. "I talked to him."

Jeff reached a hand out to his eldest sons shoulder, "Don't worry about it Son, like I said it's just a phase; he'll come through it."

Scott seemed unconvinced but nodded anyway. He didn't have chance to reply as his Grandmother came in, shaking her head, "Was that Virgil I saw going out?" Scott nodded and she continued, "Why, that flimsy jacket he had on won't be any use whatsoever in this weather. He needs a proper winter coat on out there." She turned to her son with a frown. "Are you still here Jeff?"

"I'm just waiting for …" as of on cue, Gordon walked into the room carrying his swim bag.

"I'm ready Dad!" the young boy looked up expectantly to his father. "Can we go? We're going to be late."

"Come on then," Jeff fetched his coat and pulled it on. "I don't know what time we'll be back Mother, but I told Virgil he was to be home before ten. We'll hopefully be here before then anyway, but if the weather's bad…"

"Come on Dad!" Gordon was stood at the door impatiently.

"Don't worry Jeff, everything'll be fine here," his mother assured him as she flicked the switch to heat the kettle up.

"I'll see you later then," Jeff called over his shoulder as he ushered Gordon out the door.

"Looks like it's just you, me and the two blondes, Grandma." Scott smiled as he watched Gordon make a run for his father's car.

XxxxX

After travelling the majority of his journey on back roads in terrible conditions, Virgil was even later than he'd anticipated. He was concentrating so hard on seeing through the heavy rain that he was getting a headache. Rain that even on the fastest of settings, the windscreens wipers were failing to clear.

His concentration was broken by the sound of his 'phone ringing. Turning down the radio, he fished about on the dash. Not taking his eyes of the road, his hand came into contact with the small communications device.

"Hello?" he greeted, a little distractedly. The regular beep of a warning alarm told him the battery was getting low and he made a mental note not to use it when he didn't have to.

"Virgil? Where the hell are you?" Sofia exclaimed, shrill enough to echo around the car.

"I'm only a couple of minutes away now, I promise," he lied knowing he was at least half an hour away. "I'll be there soon. The roads are pretty bad," he squinted as he concentrated on the road again, pulling the car to a stop.

"I don't care how bad the roads are, you've got fifteen minutes," she told him sternly. "That's plenty of time in that car."

"Erm, yeah, about that…" Virgil began.

"What about it?" she snapped.

"I couldn't get the Bugatti," Virgil admitted, in a low voice. "But I borrowed Scott's Porsche."

"Scott's Porsche?" the incredulous reply came back as Sofia's voice rose even higher. "Your brother's Porsche? It doesn't have any back seats Virgil; how is that going to be any use to us whatsoever?"

"No, I know it doesn't," Virgil frowned back. "But we'll just have to improvise. We've always managed before." He smiled as he allowed his expectations for the evening to bring a grin of anticipation to his lips.

"Yeah," Sofia agreed. "And I'm not 'managing' again; don't say I didn't warn you."

"Sof, I…" A long, loud beep signified she'd hung up. "Sofia? You still there?" the beep continued and he terminated the call from his end with an aggravated sigh.

Regardless of the wet conditions or the howling winds, or even the fact that he knew how important this car was to Scott. He overpowered the engine and wheel spun on the tarmac, accelerating as hard as he could down the small country road.

The car struggled on the uneven road, but Virgil pushed it on. His frustration induced anger began to affect his driving and the small coupe bounced along the country track, valiantly obeying his command for more speed.

Until about half way into his journey, and there was suddenly a loud bang …

XxxxX

At the sound of the back door opening, Scott turned to where his Grandmother sat dozing in front of the fire. She looked up to him, returning his surprised expression as she retrieved the knitting that had slipped onto her knees. "Jeff, is that you?" she called out.

Her reply came as Gordon plodded into the lounge, dragging his swim bag on the floor behind him. He took one look at his Grandmother and his jaw dropped further. "It's us Grandma," his miserable tone replied.

"Sweetie, what's the matter?" Grandma sat forward as Scott muted the television and uncrossed his legs to give Gordon his full attention.

Gordon unceremoniously dumped the bag at the foot of the couch and threw himself down next to Scott. "Gordy, what is it?" Scott asked, leaning forward to place an arm around his brother. All eyes turned to Jeff as he walked into the room and dropped down in an armchair.

"Jeff, what on earth happened?"

"Well, we weren't even half way there, and his coach called …" Jeff started to explain.

"Practice was cancelled Scott!" Gordon suddenly blurted out, his shoulders slumping. "All because of the stupid weather."

"Never mind Gordy," Scott tried to console him. "There's always next time," he rubbed at his little brother's arm in a reassuring gesture.

"There won't be a next time!" Gordon pouted, shaking his head. "Tonight was my last time to show the coach that I can make the team. Now, he'll pick the squad and I won't even make the reserves."

"Oh Gordy, that's not true," Scott told him. "I'll bet you make the team," he leaned a bit closer and tried again to reassure his little brother. For his part, Gordon rested against Scott's shoulder as they spoke.

"You got half way there?" Grandma questioned.

"No, not even to the edge of the city," Jeff sighed as he warmed his hands in front of the fire. The expression on his face only proved he wasn't happy with the way he'd spent the evening. "Can you believe it? We can't have been on the road for more than ten minutes before I was turning back, and in these conditions!" he waved a hand angrily. "He just calls and cancels. Just like that!" he clicked his fingers.

"Well, never mind Jeff, at least you hadn't gone further. You're home safe and sound now, that's all that matters." She turned to her Grandsons, "Who wants a nice warm mug of hot chocolate?" Three affirmative replies came and she put her knitting to one side as she got to her feet, just as Alan came hurtling down the stairs.

"Gordy, you're back!" he exclaimed, wide eyed with excitement. "What happened?"

Gordon turned to him sadly and began his explanation again.

XxxxX

Hearing the loud noise Virgil immediately hit the brake, slowing the car down to a reasonable speed and listening to the sounds it made. The bang was followed by the sound of scraping metal and as Virgil pulled the car to a standstill, he grimaced.

"What the hell?" He muttered as his foot hovered over the accelerator. Increasing the revs, he could hear a gritty, roar to the usual smooth sound the car emitted. With a groan, he left the car running, pushed the door open and got out.

Getting out of the warmth of the heated car was a shock to his system; he shivered as the wind slammed into his body full force. The sleet had eased but still fell hard, attacking his skin like several sharp needles. He suddenly wished he hadn't made such a hasty exit and had taken the time to get a proper coat before he left home. He sure could have done with the protection.

Walking round the car, he thanked his lucky stars that there didn't seem to be any damage to the paintwork. Despite the fact that the engine sounded as if it was turning over smoothly, the car was making a loud, guttural, tinny noise that sounded ridiculous from such a small coupe.

It was the kind of noise he associated with heavy, diesel motors and it reminded him of the farm machinery his Grandfather used to use back in Kansas. It was definitely not the kind of noise you would expect from a tiny, high performance car, no matter how old it was.

Groaning again, Virgil got down on his hands and knees, and laid on his front. Looking underneath the back of the car, his worst fears were confirmed. Not only was the tail end of the exhaust trailing on the road, but the whole thing had all but fallen off. It shuddered, swinging in time with the engine's vibrations, causing nuts and bolts to rattle.

He coughed as he got a lung full of the fumes the car was expelling.

Feeling the rain create a stream of water down his neck, Virgil let his head drop as he pushed himself back on to his hands and knees. As he looked down at himself, the rain water streamed down his nose. The wet road had left dirty marks on his shirt and trousers. His hair had long since lost any sense of style and was a wet, curly mess.

As he got to his feet again, he looked around; he was on the tiniest of roads in the middle of nowhere. In fact, it was more of a track than a road, he surmised. The darkness went on forever, and there was little chance of passing vehicles.

Just the eerie location coupled with the darkness, brought a shiver to his spine.

Quickly, he brushed himself off and got back in the car. With another shiver, he reached onto the dash to retrieve his 'phone. His hand's trembled from the cold and water still seeped through his clothes.

He really didn't want to have to do this; Scott was going to kill him. His father would be annoyed but Scott … thinking about Scott's reaction was enough to turn his stomach. His finger hesitated over the call button but with a resigned groan, and the knowledge that his life was now over, he pressed it and held the 'phone up to his ear.

"Tracy Residence, hello?"

Virgil heaved a sigh. "Gordon?" he was surprised but didn't have time to show it. "It's me. Listen, I need to talk to Dad … or Scott."

"Oh!" Gordon sighed. "I thought you were going to be my swim coach," he said miserably.

"Just put Dad on will you?" Virgil's patience was beginning to run low; the warning alarm in the background reminded him that he really didn't have time for this conversation.

"Don't speak to me like that! Why do you want him anyway?" Gordon snapped back. "Why can't you talk to me? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't ignore you, like you ignored me earlier."

"Gordon…" Virgil ground out.

"Apologise for what you said about my swimming practice and I'll think about it," the younger boy bargained, a smug grin forming on his lips.

"Apologise!" Virgil exclaimed, "Gordon, I don't have time for this, now let me talk to Dad!"

"Okay, thanks for calling," Gordon's sung happily in complete contrast to Virgil's frustrated tone.

"Gordon!" Virgil yelled into the 'phone. "Gordon! This is important!" he sighed angrily as he realised his shout was futile and that his brother had long since put the 'phone down. "Why, you little…" Virgil muttered to himself as he dialled Scott's and then his father's private numbers, both to no avail. His 'phone flashed a warning that the battery was low, but he ignored it and dialled home again in the hope he'd get someone else.

"Tracy Residence, hello?" the same voice answered and Virgil stopped himself groaning with the infuriation he felt.

"Gordon…" Virgil began, but that was as much as he got out before the 'phone emitted three fast beeps and cut out. "Damnit!" he exclaimed angrily, throwing the communications device onto the dashboard.

He contemplated walking to his destination; his friend Rob's. At least there he'd be able to call home again and have a serious conversation about what to do. Nevertheless, Rob's was at least half an hour away in a car, never mind how long it'd take him on foot. In addition, with only a thin coat it probably wasn't the most sensible of ideas.

He summed up his options; he could sit and wait for a passing motorist to take pity on him. But on these back roads, a passing motorist was unlikely. It would be safer now to take the car back home anyway, he thought. Yes, he decided, there was only one option; he had to turn back. First though, he needed to make the car safe.

Braving the rain again, he crawled underneath the car. The fumes caused him to cough again but he held his breath as he reached a hand out to the trailing metal.

"Ow!" he winced as he pulled his hand away, cursing himself for not thinking that the exhaust pipe would be hot. Pulling himself to his feet, he searched around in the car until he found an old rag. Using that to protect his hands, he crawled under the car for a third time. This time he reached out to the exhaust pipe and grunted as he successfully yanked some of it away. Incurring numerous cuts to his hands and arms, he finally managed to get most of the metal free. Not knowing what else to do with it, he tossed it into the car.

The rain had completely soaked him now; his clothes stuck to him in the most uncomfortable places, he was filthy from lying on the road and his hands were oily and sooty. The jagged edges of the metal that had grated against the road had cut into his hand causing blood to trickle into his palm, where an angry blister was already forming. He winced as he wrapped the oily rag around the injured limb, tying it as tight as he could and using his teeth to help him.

Getting back in the car, he turned the vehicle round and continued on his way. Slowly getting used to the low, harsh drone of the exhaust every time he accelerated, he made his way home. Going slow to the point of excess and so as not to cause any more damage, the black Porsche crawled along the small country road towards the safety of the highway. It wasn't that long before he began to feel his headache worsening…

XxxxX

"Who was it?" Jeff turned to his second youngest son as he came back into the lounge.

Now in his pyjamas and ready for bed, Gordon sat down next to his younger brother in front of the fire.

Their Grandmother continued to knit and Jeff sat alongside Scott on the couch. They were both pouring over information from the Air Force but for the life of him, Jeff wasn't sure why. Scott had always wanted to join the Air Force but he wasn't close to finishing his education yet and Jeff wondered if he was getting ahead of himself.

"Oh, no one important," Gordon shrugged, making eyes at Alan. "Wrong number."

"What?" the little boy leant forward to confer with his best friend, meshing his blonde hair with his brother's copper coloured locks in a secretive attempt to block out the rest of the world.

"Virgil's going to be in trouble," Gordon whispered, unable to keep the glee from his voice.

"That was him?" Alan whispered back, his eyes wide. "But you said…" he trailed off as he realised what Gordon was up to. "How do you know he's going to be in trouble?"

"He's got to have been calling to tell Dad he was going to be late," Gordon stopped, but when Alan's eyes remained clouded with confusion he spoke again. "If he's not home by ten, he'll be in trouble."

"But Gordy," Alan was frowning again. "What if Virgil gets in big trouble?" He seemed uncomfortable with the idea and glanced up to where his father and his eldest brother spoke quietly. "Dad won't be very happy if he finds out you didn't pass on the message."

Gordon leant closer. "But Dad isn't going to find out." He glared, "Is he?" Alan shook his head but remained uncertain at Gordon's logic. "Besides," Gordon shrugged, convincing himself too. "He didn't actually give me a message to pass on. And he was stupid; he deserves it!" Gordon frowned deeply. "He was really mean to me." Another pause came; the more time passed, the more Gordon seemed to be uncomfortable with what he'd done. "And he said swimming was stupid, and then he wouldn't apologise!" the young copper haired boy cried, as if that would justify his actions.

"Hmm," Alan frowned.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Gordon stressed quietly.

"I am!" Alan pouted.

"What are you two talking about over there?" Two little heads snapped up to look at their father. Equally innocent expressions forced into place, as they stared across the room.

"Nothing Dad," Gordon smiled up at him with an angelic expression.

"You're up to something!" Scott accused, pointing a finger at both his younger brothers. "What's going on?"

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Gordon looked across to Alan, obviously expecting some kind of support from his little brother. Alan's eyes widened as he realised all attention was on him. "Nothing," he began nodding; at first slowly, but the movement soon gained momentum and in a few seconds, he was nodding vigorously.

"Hmm well," Jeff was frowning at the thought of them hatching yet another plan. "Don't you both have homework you should be doing?"

Gordon rolled his eyes but nodded anyway, "Yeah, come on Al." He got to his feet and reached a hand out to his blonde brother. "Let's go do our homework," he said with a smirk that suggested homework was the farthest thing from his mind. He looked surprised when Scott stood too. "Are you coming to check up on us?" he asked sarcastically, smirking at his brother.

"No," Scott smiled suspicious of his younger brothers as he followed them. "I'm going to check in on John."

He followed Alan and Gordon as they traipsed up the stairs together. Watching his two youngest brothers engage in conversation, Scott made sure they went into their own rooms before he turned to the door alongside his own. Flickering light underneath suggested John was up, probably watching television. The door pushed open easily and Scott slipped inside.

"Hey," John smiled up from where he was tucked under a mountain of blankets.

"You warm enough there Johnny?" Scott smirked as he sat beside his brother. It was like walking in to a sauna for Scott but John evidently had no qualms about the heat.

"Actually, I'm freezing," John told him as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He pulled the blankets up around his shoulders and moved his legs so Scott could edge further onto the bed.

"You don't feel any better then?" Scott questioned; John looked pale and by his standards, that was saying something.

The younger boy shook his head. "Not really, my throat hurts and my head's pounding. It always feels worse at night," he mused to himself. "Grandma's hot chocolate helped," he grinned. "Though when Alan walked in here with it, I had to wonder what he'd done to it."

Scott laughed. "Yeah," he shook his head. "Him and Gordon are getting worse. I swear, they're up to something now." He looked up at his brother with a fond smile, "They've got that look in their eyes, y'know? The one they get when they're collaborating on their next master plan."

"Oh yeah I know," John smiled and then coughed. "I know alright."

Scott gestured to Virgil's computer, it sat closed on the floor by John's bed; not far from the heater emitting the maximum possible warmth. "Did you take a look at it?"

John nodded, "Yeah, I think you were right, we've drained it as best we can. Hopefully, if we leave it to dry out over night then it'll start up in the morning." He studied his oldest brother for a few moments, "I take it he hasn't told Dad."

Scott shook his head, "No, I told him not to. If you can fix it, there's no point in getting Dad stressed about it."

"Hmm," John raised an eyebrow, and smirked perceptively. "I guess you're right."

Deep down though, he knew that should this have happened to someone other than Virgil, Scott wouldn't be half as sympathetic. More to the point, he also knew the reason why. Scott desperately missed the close companionship he had with Virgil and was doing his utmost to regain his brother's favour.

"Can I ask you something?" Scott suddenly asked. Jolted from his thoughts, John just nodded. "Dad says Virgil's going through a phase and that it's a teenager thing. But I don't ever remember acting like he is now. You're a teenager John, am I being too hard on him?"

He paused, receiving his answer in John's hesitation.

"Okay, next question: What do you think of her? Sofia, I mean?"

John had known for a very long time that this was coming; he'd even tried to prepare himself for it. He thought through the words he'd carefully rehearsed. However now his brother sat in front of him, John was finding it difficult to put the cautiously constructed script into action.

Scott and Virgil had always been close, for as long as he could remember. So had Alan and Gordon. As for him, he muddled through, mostly on his own and he liked it that way. Scott and Virgil were always too grown up for him, yet Alan and Gordon were still too childish. He enjoyed his own company and he knew he could turn to any of his brother's if he needed to. Most of the time he didn't, but when he did it was usually Scott or Virgil he turned to.

He studied his older brother for a while; proud at the fact that Scott thought him adult enough to answer such a question.

"Sofia? As in Virgil's girlfriend?" Of course, John knew exactly who Scott meant but he tried stalling his brother for a precious few more seconds. He wanted his answer to illustrate his maturity and how worthy he was to be a part of his older brothers more grown-up adventures.

"You know any others?" Came Scott's sarcastic reply.

John heaved a heavy sigh and then coughed. "Virgil's happy," he stated. "If Sofia makes him happy then I guess there's nothing wrong with that. Is there?" He'd heard his father say that once to someone and he hoped Scott would believe they were his own thoughts on the matter.

"Forget being an astronaut John, you should be a politician," smiled Scott in admiration at his brother tactfulness. "But I'm asking what you really think," he studied John's obvious unwillingness to voice his opinions.

"She wouldn't be my ideal choice; she's not the type of girl I expected him to go for." The blonde teenager admitted reluctantly, knowing that was what Scott wanted him to say. "Look Scott," he sighed, now unsure whether he'd said the right thing. "If it's what Virgil wants then I'll be happy for him. You know, he's been pretty low since you left. It's good to see him so happy again," John added.

"What do you mean low?" Scott scowled. "He always seemed okay when I spoke to him." He looked at John with such anxiousness that the younger brother was beginning to wish he'd never said anything.

"Nothing…" John sighed again. "It was nothing really…" Scott seemed unconvinced. "I just think now he's with Sofia, he seems so much happier."

"Hmm, yeah." Scott nodded sceptically, having got his answer. "Promise me one thing John," he said, moving the conversation on. "I won't have to be worrying about you like this in three years time."

John smiled. "You won't," he promised, "though my science partner is really hot."

Scott's eyes widened at his brother, but he took in the smirk on John's lips, as he tired to work out whether John was being serious.

"By the way, how's the science project going?"

XxxxX

Virgil woke groggily; his headache had slowly worsened during his attempt to get home. Beginning to feel faint, he'd taken the decision to pull over in the interests of safety. He'd only intended to take a few minutes to pull himself together, but he must have dozed off. He physically shook himself; it felt like he was coming down with John's cold. That was another reason to be mad with Gordon; after all, he'd had it first.

The sensible voice in the back of his head was telling him he was in no condition to drive. However, all he could think of was that he should be home for ten and that all hell would break loose if he wasn't.

He travelled on cautiously; knowing he wasn't at his best and taking extra precautions by moving at a slow pace. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep but it hadn't done anything for his now pounding head. Closing his eyes seemed to alleviate the headache but as much as he'd have liked to, he knew he couldn't sleep any longer.

Though the headlights illuminated it, the road went on for an eternity and due to his lack of speed, it felt like it was taking forever.

All he wanted right now was to be at home. Home was all he could think about.

He shivered; despite the hot air the car fans were circulating, he was cold. His clothes still stuck to him and the moisture caused condensation to form on the inside of the car windows. His hands shook and it took all his concentration to keep his eyes glued to the road.

Swiping a hand across his forehead, he blinked and allowed his eyes to close for a second of respite.

Before he knew it, the car was struggling against the grassy verge of the small country track. Eyes shooting open, he swerved back onto the road. Blinking to clear his vision, he rubbed at his gritty eyes.

A deep breathe only caused a tickly cough to settle deep in his chest and he spluttered, becoming short of breath. Trying to steady his hands and ignore the drowsiness, he trudged on.

However, after a few more minutes Virgil's fight to keep his eyelids from closing was becoming more of a battle. His frequent blinking did nothing to dispel the cotton wool that had settled on his brain and no matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to shift it. Breathing was a struggle too, in fact, every muscle in his body ached. He was barely able to move his hands anymore; his whole body shook so much. He assumed it was the cold and tried not to think about it. Again, he found himself squinting into the darkness and using all his concentration to see where the road was.

Strangely enough, he didn't worry that his flu-ish symptoms had come on so unexpectedly. Instead, he found himself cursing Gordon again for bringing the germs into the household in the first place.

His thoughts had distracted him and suddenly a bright light in the darkness blinded him. He barely managed to swerve out of the way as another car went by, horn blaring at his careless driving.

Virgil pulled the car to a quick stop on the side of the road; the sudden adrenaline and exertion left him panting for breath at just how close it'd been. He must've drifted in to the middle of the road, though for the life of him he didn't know why: had he closed his eyes again? Surely not.

He was surprised when he tried to look at his watch; his limbs felt floppy and he struggled to control his hands as easily as he otherwise would; his movements were clumsy. The numbers of the watch face blurred together and he couldn't make out the time.

A rough estimation told him he should have been home by now though. Even with the conditions as they were, he should have at least been closer to the highway. Then he processed it: travelling so slowly and having stopped too, he concluded that he probably wasn't anywhere near civilisation yet. He looked around him through the misted up windows and tried to get his bearings but found it impossible.

He realised that he was going to be late home and imagined confronting an angry Scott, then dealing with his irate father.

The thought lingered for a few minutes; he had to get home.

Groaning, his heavy eyelids dropped again. Promising to limit himself to just a few minutes sleep, he fatally accepted the surrounding darkness…


	4. Three

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter; your thoughts are always welcome.

**Chapter THREE:**

Grandma watched her eldest grandson; he studied the mantelpiece clock as it ticked. At ten o'clock, he'd made both his father and her, a drink and offered them cookies. At quarter past, he'd suggested that his father bank the fire up for the night.

But he couldn't fool her, she knew what he was trying to do; divert his father's attention away from the clock and the fact that Virgil had missed his curfew.

Scott swallowed as the hands of the clock moved, but suddenly all his efforts where for nothing; Jeff Tracy glanced down at his watch and then out onto the driveway.

"Where the hell is your brother?" he cursed before looking at Scott. "I definitely told him ten." he glanced at his watch once more, as if in the few seconds he'd spoken, an hour had passed. "It's nearly half past now."

"Now Jeff," Scott was thankful that his Grandma's head came up from where she concentrated on her knitting. "Look at the weather out there!" she pointed out the window. "The poor boy probably underestimated how long it would take. I'll bet he'll turn up any minute now, full of apologies for you."

"Hmm," Jeff grumbled, unaware of the little blonde boy that had reached the bottom of the stairs. "Well that's no excuse for not letting us know. He's got a 'phone, I didn't buy it for him as a fashion accessory."

"Well then why don't you call it Jeff?" Grandma suggested bluntly.

"I'm sure it's nothing Dad, Virgil'll be fine. Like Grandma said, he probably just misjudged how long it'd take him to get home." Scott said, his nervousness breaking through.

Deep down inside he had this horrible sinking feeling that something wasn't right here, but the fact that Virgil's hadn't called tamed his apprehension. And possibly his sanity.

"He'll be here any time now." Scott prayed to see the headlights of his precious Porsche. If Virgil didn't get here soon, he knew his younger brother would never hear the end of it from their father.

"Maybe I will call him," Jeff decided, pushing himself to his feet.

Scott swallowed hoping his father would believe him, "Dad, if he's driving back then you wouldn't want to break his concentration by calling. And the last thing we need is him rushing home in these conditions; he needs to drive carefully," he sighed. "Besides," Scott shrugged. "If there was a problem he would have called us."

"He's right Jeff, sit down," said Grandma, supporting her grandson's valiant attempts to protect his brother.

The little blonde haired boy at the foot of the stairs could take it no longer and stepped forward, out of the shadows. "Daddy," he said anxiously. "What if he did call?"

"Alan!" his Grandmother exclaimed. "What are you doing there?" she spied the glass in his hand. "Did you come downstairs for a glass of water?" Leaning forward she retrieved the glass from the little boy's hands. He didn't look up, at her or his father, instead he stubbed his toe against the carpet.

"What do you mean, what if he did, Alan?" Scott frowned at him, suspicious of his brother's guilty behaviour.

"Son?" Jeff followed Scott's words with a prod and an evaluative study of his youngest son's actions.

"Virgil did call." Alan admitted, again not looking up, "I told Gordy he should tell…"

Scott cut him off, jumping to his feet and looking across at Alan with hard eyes. "What?" he exclaimed. "What do you mean he called?" He shook his head, "Why the hell didn't you say anything! What did he say?"

Alan could only shrug in reply.

Jeff could already see where this was going and headed to the foot of the stairs. "Gordon!" he bellowed, "Get down here, now!" The loud shout earned him a disapproving look from his mother but it had the desired effect. Within seconds, Gordon plodded down the stairs in his pyjamas and shortly after, John appeared behind him.

The latter shivered and pulled the blanket he had around his shoulders a little tighter. He plopped down into the chair near Scott.

"What's going on?" John yawned, looking up to his big brother with a sniff.

"Virgil hasn't come home," Scott informed him, turning on his younger brothers as their father sat them down on the couch. "And they know something."

John nodded tiredly and turned his attention to where their father was marching up and down in front of the couch.

"It wasn't me Daddy, it was Gordon." Alan, as usual, was quick to shift the blame, "I had nothing to do with it, Gordy just told me what he'd done."

"Alan!" Gordon hissed. A brief glance from their father and Gordon made the decision to keep quiet.

"Gordon," Jeff addressed his copper haired mischief maker. "Think very carefully before you answer this question, I'm only going to ask it once," he warned. "Have you spoken to Virgil tonight, since he left to pick Sofia up?"

Gordon glanced at Alan with contempt, and spun his vision round the room's occupants. He faced a tired John, an anxious Grandma and a menacing Scott, before turning back to his far from patient father.

There was silence before his reply came. "Yes," he said as he dropped his head and muttered. "He called earlier, it wasn't a wrong number."

"Why the hell did you say it was then?" Scott exclaimed angrily. "That was nearly two and a half hours ago!"

Gordon looked up to his brother with sad, anxious eyes. "I thought he was just calling to tell Dad he was going to be late home, I just wanted him to get into trouble! He was really mean to me earlier."

"Calm down Scott," Jeff Tracy boomed, putting an end to hiseldest son's tirade. Scott left the room in a flurry of anger and worry.

Jeff swallowed, trying to remain calm.

"Is that why he was calling Gordon?" he addressed his second youngest son. "To tell me he was going to be late?"

The young redhead shrugged. "I don't know Daddy, he never said."

Jeff let out an aggravated sigh and ran a hand over his hair.

As always, Grandma stepped into the breach. "Okay Sweetie, what did he say?"

Gordon looked up apprehensively. "He said he wanted to talk to either Dad or Scott. I said he couldn't until he apologised to me for what he said before." He paused, "Virgil said he didn't have time, so I put the 'phone down. He called back, but we got cut off."

Jeff nodded, "Okay, and he didn't say anything else?" Gordon shook his head. "Anything at all?"

Again a shake of the head was his only reply.

"What you did was a very irresponsible thing," Jeff told his young son sternly.

"Dad!" Scott came back into the room at a run, waving his 'phone. "He'd tried to call me, and he's not answering his 'phone." He looked at his father uneasily, and glanced at his watch. "He's over half an hour late now. There's no way he'd be this late without letting us know, I think we should go look for him."

Jeff seemed to take a moment to process Scott's words before he nodded. "Okay, Scott you come with me."

"Mother," he turned to face her where she sat on the couch, next to a sombre Gordon. "Will you be okay with the boys?"

"Well yes of course," she waved a hand. "But Jeff, what if he is just late? He could turn up as soon as you leave."

"We'll stick to the route he would've taken." He told her as he pulled on his coat and made a grab for his 'phone, "Call me if he shows up."

"Of course," she nodded in reply. "Be careful out there."

Jeff just nodded as the anger and concern fought for dominance of his features.

Grandma watched them hurry out of the door, before returning to the lounge and sitting down. A glance up at John told her that he was almost asleep again and she couldn't say she was surprised; the boy poor wasn't well at all.

"Grandma, I never meant for all this to happen," Gordon said as he dropped his head desolately. "I just wanted Virgil to apologise for what he said tonight."

"I know you did Gordon," Grandma replied, "but what you did tonight was a very silly, immature thing to do."

"I know Grandma. I'm sorry, but I …."

"I know why you did it," she cut him off. "It was still a very nasty thing to do to your brother, despite what he said to you earlier."

Gordon briefly glanced up to his Grandmother. "You don't think he's in trouble do you?"

"No dear, of course not," she assured him. "Virgil will probably breeze in that door within the next ten minutes as if nothings wrong," she stated.

Ten minutes passed quickly.

There was still no sign of Virgil.

XxxxX

"Turn left here Dad," Scott instructed from the passenger seat as they made their way along the darkened roads.

Jeff looked across at him with a sceptical frown. "Here? Are you sure?" The lines on his face deepened, "Won't that take us out onto the dirt track that leads into the back of beyond?"

"Yeah," Scott was nodding as his father turned. "That's the way he always goes to Rob's." He explained, "The roads aren't so good, but it's quicker."

Scott watched his father's driving, whilst looking out of the window for any sign of his brother. He knew now, something was definitely wrong; Virgil would have called to say he was going to be late. There was only one reason as to why he hadn't and that was that he couldn't; a conclusion that Scott found more than a little disturbing.

"Quicker in better conditions maybe," Jeff muttered, "Rob's the one with the farm, right?" He was squinting to see through the rain. "You boys have got so many friends, I get confused."

"Huh?" Scott seemed distracted, too deep in thought. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, he's the one. Do you really think he's just late Dad?" He seemed to need some reassurance from his father; his anxiousness not withdrawing its grip.

"Well Scott," Jeff paused as he leant forward to check both ways before pulling across a junction. "If it was just that he was going to be late, I think he would have used Sofia's 'phone to call us. Or if not Sofia's 'phone then someone's." He spoke as it to reassure himself, "Virgil's a sensible boy, I'm sure he's fine. It's just that, if anything, he's reliable and it's not like him not to let us know."

"You think he's in trouble, don't you?" Scott winced as the question left his lips. It wasn't so much the question as the answer he dreaded. He was sure, deep down, he already knew what his father's reply would be.

Jeff saved him the worry, "How long do you think it would normally take you to get to Rob's?" He glanced at the car clock that now read quarter to eleven.

"Right here," Scott instructed, pointing down in-between some trees. "I don't know." He shrugged, "About an hour I'd say, but with the rain tonight. I'd probably take longer. The roads would be flooded."

Jeff nodded, needing to think about something.

Something other than the endless possibilities.

"Right, I'll bet it would've taken Gordon and I over an hour to get to the other side of the city. But Virgil probably won't have thought of that, he'd be planning to leave at around nine."

"Yeah," Scott agreed with a nod of the head, following his father's logic.

"So, it still doesn't add up," Jeff frowned. "Gordon and I were back for half seven, so I'd say Virgil 'phoned at what? Eight? Half passed at the latest, if not before then." His frown hardened, "Why was he leaving so early?"

Scott shrugged and then a thought hit him about the conversation he'd heard earlier. "I don't think they were planning to stay there all night. That's why Virgil needed a car; he and Sofia were going on somewhere else."

Jeff nodded. "Oh, I see," He muttered, as he raised an eyebrow. Scott had the sinking feeling that he'd just dropped his brother in it.

Pulling onto the small country roads, Jeff slowed the car down to compensate for the uneven tarmac and the abundance of water. As Scott had rightly assumed, the roads were flooded.

Scott had to voice his fears. "Of course. That's if he ever got there."

Jeff glared at his son's theory, before turning back to the road with a hardened look in his eye. He deftly avoided the potholes in the road as they continued; praying that Virgil would be okay. The darkness was eerie and he hated to think Virgil might be alone out here.

Thankfully, seconds after travelling down the small country track the outline of the distinctive Porsche could be made in the distance.

"Stop!" Scott's sudden shout caused Jeff to hit the brakes hard. "Look!" he pointed out, extending a hand into the darkness where the silhouette of a car could just be made out. "That's my car!"

Scott's eyes were glued to the scene. "That's him Dad! It's got to be!"

Jeff pulled up alongside the back Porsche. He'd barely turned the engine off, before Scott jumped out and rushed across to his car.

"Virgil?" Scott called as he got closer. Jeff opened the boot and retrieved a torch before following his eldest son. As he got closer and heard the rattling of the loose exhaust fittings, Scott's tone changed. "Can you hear that?" he briefly turned to his father. "What's he done to my car!"

Jeff ignored his son and headed round to the drivers door. More concerned that, regardless of Scott announcing their presence loudly, there was still no sign of Virgil accept for the steamed up windows. With a not so gentle tug, Jeff pulled the door open and switched the engine off.

"Virgil?" his eyes widened at the slumped figure of his second eldest son. Pulling himself together, he reached a hand to Virgil's shoulder. "Son, can you hear me?"

Seeing his father's actions, Scott halted in his examination of the car and rushed over to him. "Is he alright?" he asked anxiously, trying to get a look into the cars interior.

"Virgil?" Jeff asked again, desperate for some kind of response. He was praying that his son was just asleep after sitting in the warm car for so long, with nothing else to do. However, something in the pit of his gut was stirring at just how long it was taking to rouse him. "Virgil, son! Come on, wake up."

Much to Jeff's relief, Virgil's eyelashes fluttered and his head lolled to one side. Frowning at his father's image, he struggled to keep his heavy eyelids from clamping back down again and the blobs of colour in front of him never really focused into anything identifiable.

All of a sudden, his stomach churned and the sounds around him were distorted. Voices calling to him, from all directions. He turned his head to get away from it but it persisted; just getting louder and louder; hurting his head even more. The movement was enough to cause his stomach to lurch and a wave of dizziness hit him full force. He could feel the rain hitting him again and the chill of the wind, so he leaned for the open door and hoped for the best.

Jeff almost let out a sigh of relief as Virgil's eyes fluttered, but it didn't last. The young man seemed to have little control over his movements and let his head roll in the direction of his father's voice. His eyelids drooped and then closed completely.

Jeff was surprised when Virgil pushed him back with a disobedient arm thrust into his stomach, as the younger man leant out the car and vomited onto the floor. Scott jumped back at the retching noise, but Jeff leant forward and managed to catch Virgil's torso before he fell out of the car completely. He waited until he'd finished before sitting his son back up in the seat. "Virgil?"

"Dad?" Came the feeble reply. Virgil's head rolled about as if his neck wasn't strong enough to hold it in one place. "I don't feel too good," he breathed quickly, struggling to get the words out. He frowned as his big brown eyes tried to bring his father's face into focus.

"Is he drunk?" Scott yelped out in astonishment.

"It looks that way," Jeff growled in his harsh, rich tones. He looked down on Virgil's apparently drunken state with an angry frown. "Quite frankly Virgil, I'm not surprised you don't feel well!" he exclaimed. "I expected more of you, I thought you knew better!"

Jeff watched as Virgil's head lolled aimlessly from side to side and he tried to gain some kind of control of his unruly limbs.

Virgil's stomach churned as he tried to open his eyes again, only to squint at the power of the torch Scott was shining into the car. He tried to dispute Scott's claim but he couldn't get the words out quick enough and his father was already speaking.

"Get out," Jeff ordered.

Virgil tried to obey his father but every muscle ached and his head pounded to the point where all he wanted was quiet.

"Come on Virgil, out!" Jeff raised his voice to get his sons attention, as he half dragged and half pulled him out of the car.

Virgil was unsteady on his feet and swallowed back the sickness that rose again. As a result, Jeff found himself practically holding his son up.

"I can't believe you'd be this stupid!" he barked.

Scott went around to Virgil's other side, helping his father hold him steady.

"I thought you'd have more sense!" Jeff continued angrily. "What in God's name were you thinking? Trying to drive in this condition!"

He looked down at Virgil for a reply.

It came but was indecipherable.

"Scott, take your car. I'll follow you home." Jeff snapped as he took a good hold of Virgil's arms and began leading him to his own car.

Scott walked away, wide eyed. The Virgil he knew was always level headed and sensible; thought things through and if anything, over analysed situations. Despite the change he'd seen is his brother, Scott struggled to accept that Virgil would even entertain the idea of drinking and then getting behind the wheel. Especially when he'd only just got his licence and especially when he was driving Scott's car, which he knew was so important to him. With a shake of the head and a deep anxious frown as to the conversation that was going on in his father's car, he adjusted the driver's seat.

"Dad," Virgil was breathing. "I didn't, I swear. No drink." He struggled to form sentences but wanted so desperately to contest the notion that he was drunk. "I…"

"I'm not interested in your excuses Virgil!" Jeff spat as he tried to get his son to sit in the car. Virgil didn't seem to be able to hold himself up straight, or move any of his limbs in the direction he wanted to.

"We'll have this discussion later, when you can string more than two words together…" came the reply and Virgil frowned at the anger in his father's voice. "I'm disappointed in you, son," Jeff glowered as he passed his second eldest son the seatbelt. "Put this on," Virgil's fingers refused to close round the material and he struggled.

Jeff was about to tut and fasten the safety belt for him, when a shout interrupted him.

"Dad!" Scott called as he ran over to his father's car, metal piping in his hand. "Dad, look at this!" He briefly glanced down at his brother. "Most of the exhaust is in the car!" he puzzled.

"What? But…" he turned back to his second eldest son and the frown on his face dropped away. Rushing to kneel down in front of Virgil, he cupped his son's face and forced the teen to look directly at him.

An alarming theory ran through his head.

"Virgil, look at me son," he said in considerably softer tones, trying to hold eye contact.

Virgil's eyes weren't focusing.

"Come on Son, look at me."

He tried again.

"Virgil …. it's important. How long have you been in that car?"

"Go home," Virgil brought a shaky hand up to his father's forearm, gripping it with such force that the skin slapped together. "I was just trying to go home."

"Scott, get in the car." Jeff ordered, turning his head to his eldest son. Looking back at Virgil, he ran a hand over his wet chestnut locks. "It's okay son, you're going to be okay." He assured him, his tone of voice now completely different. Pulling Virgil to his feet and manoeuvring him onto the back seat of the car, he swallowed; angry with himself that he hadn't thought sooner. It all made sense now; the rattling the Porsche was making and the stateVirgil was in. "Everything's going to be okay."

"What?" Scott was frowning. "What about my car?" he pointed at the black Porsche.

"To hell with your damned car!" Jeff snapped. He was more angry at himself than Scott, but the harsh tone came out before he could stop it. "Your brother's sick Scott, we need to get him to a hospital!"

Scott was openly shocked by the outbursts and it took a few minutes for his father's words to sink in. It was rare Jeff Tracy lost his temper, rarer still that it was ever at him. Scott knew though, that this time of year wasn't easy for his father and his fuse was considerably shorter; still, even with that knowledge, the explosion knocked him for six.

Numbly, he activated the remote locking on his Porsche and clambered into the back of his father's car, dropping the exhaust pipe he had with him into the foot well. He wrapped his arms around Virgil's chest and pulled his younger brother until his head was in his lap. Virgil looked up at him blankly, but then closed his eyes.

"He's shaking," Scott commented as the car bounced along the country track in the same way he was sure the Porsche had, only this time with a determined Jeff Tracy at the wheel. "What's wrong with him Dad?"

Jeff briefly turned to gesture onto the back seats where his sons where. "There's a blanket down there, use that to keep him warm," he said, avoiding having to voice his own theory. Scott dutifully fished about in the back of the car until he came across the woollen material. He laid it carefully round his brother, in an attempt to keep him warm and cease his shivering.

"He's not drunk is he?" Scott asked again from the back seat, as Jeff's foot inched closer to the floor with the accelerator.

"No Scott," Jeff said sadly, not wanting to say what he thought aloud, "I don't think he is." He didn't elaborate, concentrating on getting to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible.

"Dad, what is it then?" Scott asked, as he glanced between his father in the rear view mirror and his stricken brother in his lap.

"I don't know Scott, but he's been sat in that car for goodness knows how long." Jeff muttered unhappily, as they sped along. "He's cold…"

"He's soaking wet," Scott added as he fingered his brother's damp chestnut locks.

Jeff nodded; Scott's words just further proving his point. "And I don't like the way he's so confused and disorientated."

"Scott," The frail, weak, voice barely managed a whisper and Scott could have quiet easily not heard the call. It took a few seconds for him to register that the voice came from his lap, and he looked down in to familiar wide, brown eyes. "I'm so sorry," Virgil said.

"Sorry?" Scott frowned down at him. "What for?" he placed a hand on his brother's forehead, his frown deepening at the cold, clammy touch.

"The car," Virgil replied. He shook his head but regretted it when it began pounding again. "I never meant…" he trailed off trying to explain. He was able to keep his eyes open now, but still felt incredibly tired.

"Shh," Scott soothed. He shook his head, "Forget about the car."

Virgil closed his eyes and then opened them again. "I want to go home," he muttered as his eyes closed. It felt surreal; he was so tired and he ached all over, Scott's head looming over him seemed abstract. It was as if his eyes weren't working properly, neither were his lungs or his brain.

"We've got to get you checked out first son," Jeff told him from the driver's seat. "We're going to the hospital."

Virgil frowned. "My head hurts," he mumbled randomly. "I feel sick." He moved his head in Scott's lap, trying to get comfortable. He seemed to be able to string words that were more coherent together now, though he didn't understand what was happening. His eyelashes fluttered, but Scott's voice stopped him from sleeping.

"Can you remember what happened Virgil?" Scott asked as his fingers ran over his brother's hair.

"The car," Virgil sighed. "I'm sorry," he said again, allowing his eyes to close once more.

"Don't worry about the car Virgil," Jeff replied. "You're more important than the car, much more important." He knitted his brow together, allowing himself the luxury of glancing over his shoulder at his son. "The car can be fixed Son."

Virgil swallowed, "Are we nearly home yet?"

Scott's head shot up to meet his father's apprehensive expression in the mirror before he turned back down to his brother. "We're not going home yet," he told Virgil. "We're going to the hospital, remember?" Virgil didn't answer, instead looking up at his brother, perplexed. Scott saw his bewilderment, and just smiled sympathetically. "We're nearly there now."

XxxxX

Having tucked a sick John back up in bed and then settled Alan, Grandma now sat with Gordon in his room. The little boy flatly refused to go to sleep; despite the fact his body craved it, he awaited news of his brother.

"Can we try calling them again Grandma?" he pleaded.

"No Sweetie, Scott'll call as soon as he knows anything," she sighed at the guilt her young grandson obviously felt. "Virgil's in good hands. The best thing you can do for him now is to get off to sleep, like a good boy."

"But Grandma, I want to be up when Virgil comes home. So as I can apologise properly, and I guess Dad'll want to talk to me too." Gordon's bottom lip trembled at the thought.

"Now come on," she reached for the covers and pulled them up to his neck. "Virgil knows you didn't mean for all this to happen and your Father'll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep."

Gordon sighed miserably as he placed his head on the plumped up pillows. "If Scott calls, you'll come and wake me, won't you Grandma?"

"You just get some sleep, young man," she avoided making any promises. "Virgil's going to need looking after when he comes home, you'll need all your energy for that."

"I want to see him as soon as he gets in though Grandma," Gordon insisted, trying to hide the fact that he was yawning. "So I can tell him. So as he knows for sure, how sorry I am."

His Grandma looked down on him as she ran a hand over his copper hair. "Virgil knows that already son, now get to sleep."

Gordon closed his eyes and let himself relax into the mattress. Within minutes, he'd drifted off to sleep like his brothers before him. With one final brush of her hand through his hair, Grandma rose to her feet and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Switching the light off as she went, she headed downstairs to wait up for any news.

XxxxX

Scott watched as Jeff pensively rubbed his thumb along the bottom of his lip. They stood side by side, watching the doctors and nurses through the glass as they tended to Virgil. His father's deep breathing and the way he watched the scene in front of him, made Scott unsure whether to break the silence or not.

"Dad…" he said quietly, before swallowing. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know Scott," Jeff replied, as he watched Virgil's feeble attempts to push away the help that the medical staff were trying to provide.

"You've got an idea though, haven't you? As soon as I told you about the exhaust, you…" he was cut off, as the doors opened and they both looked up to see a middle aged man walking towards them. His white coat trailed behind him slightly and he held a clipboard in his hands.

"Mr Tracy?" He held a hand out to Jeff, "I'm Dr Martin Davis and I've been treating Virgil. Perhaps we could step this way…" he held a hand out, gesturing to a nearby room. With a longing glance at Virgil, both Scott and Jeff followed. "Please, sit down," the doctor invited.

A big wooden table sat in the middle of the room, a neat pile of magazines were stacked in one corner and around it were several large chairs. Jeff and Scott both sat down, staring up as the doctor perched on the edge of one of the chairs with a sigh. "Do you have any idea how long Virgil was in the car, before you got him out?"

Jeff shrugged. "No," he shook his head. "Two or three hours maybe, it could've been more." He rubbed his hands together anxiously, "How is he?"

"He's going to be fine, Mr Tracy." The Doctor assured him, "It seems he's suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning." He paused, "The only thing we can do is keep him on the oxygen and that should counteract the high concentrates in his bloodstream."

"Carbon monoxide poisoning?" Scott exclaimed, "But how?"

"The exhaust," Jeff looked up to the doctor for a conformation nod, which came. "The fumes from the exhaust were getting into the car. All the time he was in there, he was breathing it in."

"He's been very lucky; you got to him just in time." The doctor nodded having come to the same conclusion as Jeff. "If he'd been exposed any longer there could have been any number of complications; carbon monoxide poisoning is one of the biggest killers in the winter."

"But, he's going to be okay?" Jeff was frowning, not quite reassured yet.

"He's going to be fine. A couple of day's rest and he'll be good as new." The doctor smiled, "I'd like to admit him for tonight, just for observation; I'd rather play it safe. He's also still very cold so I'd prefer to keep a close eye on him. But I don't want you to worry; he'll make a complete recovery."

"Can we see him?" Scott asked, betraying any attempt to hide his concern.

"Yes, of course. The nurses are just making him more comfortable upstairs." The doctor nodded, "He needs a lot of rest, so try not to disturb him too much. He's very confused and disorientated, but that's to be expected." He nodded again, and then looked up as if he'd only just remembered something. "Don't let him remove the oxygen mask; he's had a tendency to keep trying to do that. Something tells me he doesn't like it too much but I'm afraid it's a necessity."

Jeff was nodding, "Thank you doctor, I appreciate everything you've done." He sighed as he shook the doctor's hand again, "Would it be possible to stay with him tonight?"

The doctor seemed to evaluate Jefferson Tracy before nodding once more. "Yes okay, one of you can stay."

"Thank you," Jeff said again, his eyes conveyed his sincerity.

The number of emotions that swirled through his mind and body at that moment in time was insurmountable. He could have easily burst in to tears; which said something for a man who normally kept his emotions under strict control. The more he thought about the whole situation, the more he hated himself for not letting Virgil take his car. He kept questioning his own actions; should he have realised what Gordon had done? Should he have gotten there quicker? How could he be so stupid as to assume that his son had been drunk, when in fact he'd been so sick?

"You did the hard part," the doctor said seriously. "You got him out just in time, a few minutes later and we could have a very different case on our hands." He swallowed, gesturing to the nurse, "If you go with Melanie here, she'll take you up to see him."

"Thanks again doctor," Jeff nodded as they left the room and the doctor behind.

Scott made small talk with the short, dumpy woman that led them down countless corridors but Jeff just walked behind them. He was anxious to lay eyes on his second eldest son once more and reassure himself that Virgil really was okay.

Like he did business; he didn't have time for small talk.

When they arrived at the door, the nurse left them to it and cautiously, they both made their way inside. The room was dimly lit, but the figure on the bed was plain enough for both of them to see. Virgil was sat up, supported by numerous pillows. His head was lolled to one side and it appeared he was asleep.

Jeff headed straight for the chair by the bed, whilst Scott took in everything about his brother. Virgil' face seemed pale yet his lips were a brighter red, machines monitored his breathing and heart rate. Glancing down, he noticed the dressing on his brother's hand where he'd burned himself and consequentially, the needle that sat against his skin on the back of his hand. As if he'd somehow sensed their presence, Virgil stirred. Rolling his head towards his father, Jeff was met with hollow, wide brown eyes.

"Dad," Virgil ground out, the mask muffled the sound and it didn't appear coherent. Blinking, he found himself unable to control his eyelids from drooping. He had to admit he was feeling better than before.

But he was still so tired though.

"Hi son," Jeff smiled back. "Just relax; you're going to be okay."

Suddenly Virgil frowned, not bothering to open his eyes he rolled his head to where he knew his big brother would be. "Scott?" Instinctively, Scott leant against the metal railings. "I'm sorry," Virgil forced a heavy arm up to the obstruction on his face and attempted to remove it.

"No, Virgil, don't do that!" "Leave it there," came the simultaneous replies.

Virgil felt Scott's hand take a firm grip on his own and lift it away.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again as Scott leant forward to hear him.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Scott told him, strumming the back of his free hand.

Virgil tried to move, murmuring as he let himself fall back against the pillows. "Are we nearly home yet?" he mumbled, licking his lips.

Scott looked up to his father at the comment, unsure of how to respond.

Jeff just reached out to Virgil's forearm and began caressing it, whilst he stroked back his hair soothingly. "Just go to sleep son, you need to get some rest." He paused, "You'll feel much better in the morning."

Virgil sighed and slipped back into sleep.


	5. Four

**A/N:** Many thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter; as you know, your comments are always welcome.

**Chapter FOUR:**

"Grandma!"

The voice seemed far away and in all honesty, she wished it would just leave her alone. She ached all over and felt she needed the sleep. "Grandma, wake up!"

Suddenly it all clicked into place and her head snapped up, almost head butting Scott where he hovered alongside her. The eldest of her grandsons moved his head to one side, narrowly avoiding a nosebleed.

"Geez Grandma!" Scott exclaimed.

"Scott?" the elderly woman queried, still surfacing from her sleep. "What time is it?" she asked as she glanced at her watch.

Scott refrained from pointing out that her watch had made a perfect imprint on her forehead. "About a quarter to three," he told her.

"How is he?" Grandma asked, looking up anxiously at Scott. Her eyes soon turned to searching the room for her second eldest grandson.

"The doctor says he's going to be fine," Scott said, seeing her anxious gaze and knowing what she was anticipating, he went on. "They wanted to keep him in tonight though. Y'know for observation and stuff." He waved a hand, "But he's going to be okay. Dad's staying with him."

The elder woman nodded and studied her eldest grandson, "Are you okay Scott?"

"Hmm?" he seemed distracted as he replied. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," he yawned. "I've got to go back and pick them up in the morning."

His Grandmother nodded. "How did he seem to you?" she asked carefully.

Scott shrugged and just from the one movement, she could tell he didn't want to talk about it. "Pretty out of it. I don't think he really knows what's going on."

"I take it, it's definitely carbon monoxide poisoning?" she asked as she gestured for Scott to sit down at the kitchen table.

Scott slipped into the wooden seat alongside her. He stretched his arms out in front of him, linking his fingers and nodding his head, "Yeah."

"Your father said he thought as much on the 'phone," she told him. "Said he was in quite a state by the time you reached him," she prodded. Deep down she knew it was more than fatigue causing his slumped posture and his haunted expression.

"Yeah, he was," Scott admitted. "Thank God Alan saw fit to tell us what Gordon was up to."

"He's feeling awfully bad about it too," Grandma tried to curve Scott's obvious upset at his second youngest brother.

"Good," Scott's harsh tone came back. "So he should."

"Now Scott…"

"Now nothing Grandma!" Scott spoke over her. "If he'd just let Virgil speak to one of us, none of this would have happened," he gestured in mid air. One glance up at her expression curved his rage, "I'm sorry Grandma; I didn't mean to be disrespectful by talking over you."

"Your little brother is more than aware of his mistake Scott," she said, ignoring his apology. "Believe me, he's been upstairs in that room stewing all night about what he's done."

She shook her head, knowing Scott felt angry with Gordon. Somehow though, she knew if Scott would just speak to his brother all that anger would quickly dissipate.

"How about your car?" she changed the subject, also knowing he was tired and that the fatigue was probably influencing his mood.

"Dad's going to call Antonio in the morning, get it towed to the garage. I would've driven it, but Dad wouldn't let me. He said it was too dangerous." Scott moped, thinking of his poor little car.

Stuck out on a lonely, isolated road so far away.

"I should never have leant it to him in the first place. If it hadn't been for Dad…"

"Scott Sweetie," she smiled at him, reaching out to cup his hands in hers. "You can't think about the 'ifs' and 'buts'. The important thing is that your brother's going to be okay." Scott went to speak again. "No buts!" she raised a finger to his lips. "Now, why don't you stay there and we'll talk about it."

Her reply came from the copper haired young boy who stood in the doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Scott?" he was asking blearily. "Where's Virgil?"

The second Scott looked across at his anxious, younger brother all his anger was forgotten. "Gordon, what are you doing up?" Scott studied him whilst his Grandmother got up to make a drink.

"I heard the car," Gordon dismissed his brother's question quickly. "Where is he?" his eyes shot round the room, fervently searching for any sign of his second eldest brother. "Where's Virgil?"

Scott pushed himself to his feet, "Virgil's not here. The doctors wanted to keep him in the hospital tonight and Dad's stayed with him." He told the little boy, as he walked towards him.

"Keep him in the hospital?" Gordon was repeating, wide and fearful eyes turning to Scott. "He is okay though, isn't he? I mean, why wouldn't they let him come home if he was?" His voice rose as he spoke and the apprehension seemed to multiply.

"He's okay Gordy," Scott assured, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "The doctors just wanted to check, that's all. Now, why don't we get you back to bed hmm?" Scott's arm crept round his shoulders, "Grandma, don't worry about a drink for me. I've got to be up in the morning so I think I'm going to go straight to bed."

Grandma frowned, unsure whether that was such a good idea when there was still so much he hadn't talked about. "Are you sure?" she queried with a raised eyebrow.

Scott seemed to hesitate, as if maybe he was reconsidering. Then, with an air of certainty, he nodded. "Yeah, I'm tired and it's late. Thanks for the offer though." He turned back to Gordon, "Come on Gordy."

"Okay, goodnight boys," she called from the kitchen as Scott led his brother up the stairs.

As soon as she heard the footsteps on the stairs, she cursed to herself. Just like Jeff had done so many times, Scott carried his problems off to his bedroom and confronted them silently, on his own.

She tutted as she rinsed her mug out and placed it on the draining board.

Sometimes, she thought indignantly, that boy was too much like his father.

XxxxX

"Did you talk to him Scott?" Gordon was asking as Scott pulled the covers back over his brother. "What did he say?" The little boy didn't wait for an answer.

"He said; 'Wow! It was such a good drive, I think I'm going to forget about getting a truck and I'm going to buy a Porsche too.'" Scott grinned at his mischievous brother, knowing he would see the funny side and hoping it would lighten the mood.

Gordon grinned, but only for a few seconds. "No, what did he really say Scott? Is he mad with me?"

Scott shook his head, remembering just what Virgil had said. "He didn't really say very much at all Gords, just that he didn't feel too well," he said diplomatically. "He's not mad with you, but what you did tonight was a very stupid thing to do." He stopped to take in a breath, "Virgil was probably calling to ask for help, and you didn't even give him a chance to speak. Did you?"

Gordon shook his little head sadly. "I'm so sorry Scott, I never meant for any of this to happen. If only he'd said it was important…" he trailed off. "I was just so mad with him, for the way he's been acting just lately."

"Yeah I know," Scott nodded as he perched on the edge of Gordon's bed. "He's not been himself lately, but he's going through a tough time. It's not easy being a teenager. Trust me, I've been there, got the t-shirt and won't be going back." Gordon smiled at the attempted humour, but it was more of a gesture. "One day, you'll understand why it's so hard, because you'll have to go through everything that Virgil's going through now."

"Not one day, Scott." Gordon shook his head, "I'll be thirteen next; then I'll be a teenager too. And I can stomp around and ignore other people and spend all the time talking to my girlfriend."

Scott smirked, "You've noticed that too, huh?" He shook his head, "I know what Virgil said to you tonight wasn't nice, and I know you just wanted him to apologise. But you have to understand Gordon, that what you did tonight was totally irresponsible."

"I know that Scott," Gordon admitted. "You don't have to tell me. I know it was a stupid thing to do and I'm sorry. And I'm going to tell Virgil that when I see him too." He snuggled down into the covers and yawned.

"I think maybe we should both get some sleep," Scott suggested as he repressed the urge to comply with the infectious yawn.

"I don't want him to be mad with me Scott," Gordon repeated as Scott stood up. "I was scared," he suddenly admitted. "I thought maybe something real bad had happened to him and it was all my fault."

Scott sighed, reaching a hand out to tousle his hair. "Well there's no need to be scared now is there? I told you, Virgil's going to be fine. He'll be home tomorrow and you can apologise then. Okay?"

Gordon nodded and settled into the pillows again. "Okay," he agreed.

Switching off the light, just as his Grandmother had done earlier; Scott left his brother to sleep. Checking in on Alan and John briefly, he made his way down the hall to his own room. Every muscle in his body was taut no doubt due to the stress he felt. He rubbed at his gritty eyes as he shed his clothes and, without bothering to change, crawled between the sheets.

By the time his Grandmother checked in on him as she went up to bed, he was sound asleep. She could only hope that Jeff and Virgil were having just as peaceful a night, at the hospital.

XxxxX

It felt like travelling down a long tunnel, one that you couldn't see the end of. Constantly searching for a ray of light to hold on to; something to cling to and focus on.

It was clichéd.

The thought was surprisingly clear, considering the cotton wool that had muddled his thinking before. He pondered on how long 'before' had been. It felt like he'd slept for a week at least; any movement was slow and unsteady, and his head still ached mercilessly. However, despite this feeling of rousing from a long and deep sleep, he was exhausted.

He felt a hand smoothing over his hair and realised he must have made some kind of movement or noise to alert his father to the fact he was waking up. He was sure it'd be his father; it certainly smelt like his father. Opening his eyes would, of course, confirm it but his brain wasn't quite ready to make that connection just yet. And the prospect of trying to prize his heavy eyelids open didn't appeal.

The hand continued and he felt a thumb caressing his forehead.

Unable to ignore it any longer, he attempted to open his eyes; surprised when he succeeded. The first time everything was blurry and he had to blink to bring it all in to focus, but the second time was better. Sure enough, he found his father sat alongside him; his hand running softly over the top of his head in a reassuring gesture. Jeff smiled across at him but Virgil could see the fatigue in his father's eyes and the dark smudges that suggested he'd hardly slept.

His father's arm was carefully placed above the raised railings, the other hand resting between the bars.

Railings.

Virgil studied the bed railings, suddenly disorientated; he'd never thought to wonder why his father was in his bedroom. Nor why, for that matter, he was so softly stroking care worn hands through his untidy hair.

"Father?" his mouth was dry and he swallowed in an attempt to communicate. Pulling the oxygen mask that muffled his words away from his mouth, he tried to look around the room. Frowning at his surroundings, he fought to concentrate and tried to remember what he was doing here.

"Where am…" he trailed off, as he realised that was a stupid question. "What happened?" he asked, squinting at the light.

"Just relax," Jeff soothed seeing his confusion. "You're in the hospital but you're okay." He smiled, "What do you remember?"

Virgil frowned again: that was a good question but his mind drew a blank. He shook his head, ever so slightly. "I had a weird dream," he said, as if it was just coming back to him.

"Yeah?" his father was encouraging him. "What about?" Jeff smiled again; just to hold a conversation with his son brought a tingling of relief to his stomach. Seeing how weak he'd been, how disorientated and unsettled he was; Jeff couldn't bear to think about what could have happened.

"You," Virgil smiled inquisitively up at him, his eyes adjusting slowly to the light. "You were mad with me," he recounted slowly. "You were shouting at me, that I should've known better and that you were disappointed."

A light bulb switched on in Jeff's mind as he remembered his reaction when he'd found his, presumably drunk, son behind the wheel.

"It was horrible," Virgil knitted his brow together, he shook his head but soon realised it only increased his headache. "I couldn't tell you that I hadn't done it," the lines of anxiety on his features deepened. "I don't remember what it was that I hadn'tdone," he admitted, perplexed. "I just remember knowing that you'd got it wrong, but not being able to do anything about it and …"

"Don't worry about it now," Jeff sighed, realising Virgil was becoming distressed at the concept. "We'll talk about it later."

Virgil took a few moments to try to shake the feeling off. It was like being trapped; forced to watch the events unfold but helpless to have any influence on them. "I'm in the hospital," he stated, getting around to puzzling why he was here at all. "So, am I sick?"

"You were," Jeff told him. "But you're much better now. Do you remember driving Scott's car?"

Virgil racked his brains. Now he thought about it, he did remember that. "I think so," he replied vaguely. "I felt weird. I was really tired and I ached all over. Everything was going blurry, so I pulled up on the side of the road." He grimaced as he tried to pull non existent memories from his brain, "That's it. I don't remember anything else."

"What about before then," Jeff said, worried that the memory loss was a sign of unseen complications. "Do you remember the exhaust pipe falling off?"

Virgil frowned hard, dredging through memories and hallucinations to get to the truth. "I think so, it was raining," he said softly. "I got all wet and it was cold, it was really cold."

"You pulled the rest of the tail pipe off, didn't you?" Jeff watched him closely as he tried so hard to pull the random memories together into one long coherent one. Suddenly he brought his hand up to in front of his face and stared at the bandage there. "Is that how you burnt yourself?" Jeff followed his thought process.

Slowly Virgil nodded, "There was a bang." The words stumbled out, as the memories resurfaced at last. Flashes of himself in the rain, on the floor and under the car came back in quick succession. "The tail pipe was on the floor. It was trailing on the floor," he clarified. "I tried to pull it off but it was too hot." He waited for a few moments, "Then I found an old rag and used that to protect my hands. Once the tail pipe came loose, a big box fell off too."

Jeff nodded, encouraging him, "That'd be the muffler; it helps to quieten the exhaust noise a car makes."

Virgil nodded too, "Yeah that makes sense, because afterwards when I accelerated there was this noise. Like a heavy, growling noise."

"Did anything else come off?" Jeff continued to coax him on.

Virgil shook his head with a shrug. "It was all loose; it looked pretty unstable and it was making a weird rattling noise." He paused, "I thought it'd do more damage if it fell down and got caught on something whilst I was driving." The memories came more easily now, "So I pulled as much off as I could; loads came off." Suddenly he frowned and turned to his father, "What's this got to do with why I'm here?"

"Well, once you'd got the exhaust off, there was nowhere for the fumes that the engine was burning to go." Jeff looked at Virgil who shrugged sheepishly, "All the fumes were going straight into the car and you were breathing them in. You got carbon monoxide poisoning." Jeff told him with a sad smile. "You were very lucky, another half hour in that car and …" he trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

"Did you find me? I tried to call home, didn't I?" Virgil asked, unsure whether his memory was failing him now. "But the 'phone battery…" he groaned, as he kneaded his head . "Man, my head hurts."

"Okay, just sit back and try to relax," Jeff frowned at him, concerned. "The doctor will be coming in soon; he said you'll be able to go home this morning." He paused, thinking back to the restless night he'd endured; Virgil continually muttering about going home in his sleep, despite Jeff's best efforts to soothe him. "I take it you do still want to go home?" he smiled at his son.

"Yeah, of course," Virgil shivered. He looked up at his father's fingers that, despite the fact he was fully awake now, still combed through his hair. Adding to that the way his father looked at him, he became suspicious. "Are you okay Dad?"

"Me?" Jeff queried, "Of course, why?"

Virgil shrugged. "You're acting weird," he said honestly, eliciting a chuckle from his father, just as the doctor made his entrance.

XxxxX

"Oh Scott!" Grandma held a hand to her chest as she entered the kitchen and then came to a dead halt. "You made me jump!" She shook her head and he passed her the orange juice carton in his hand, without being asked.

From where he stood with the fridge door open, the light was dim but he stilllooked pale. "I thought you'd be having a lie in after the time you got in last night," she said as she sat herself at the table, gesturing for him to do the same.

He complied.

"Couldn't sleep," Scott shrugged.

"Has your father called?" Grandma asked, unsurprised at Scott's response. "I thought he might call from the hospital; let us know how your brother is this morning."

Scott nodded, "Yeah, me too but he hasn't called yet."

"He will," Grandma replied positively. "Now, how's my favourite eldest grandson this morning?" She was pleased when Scott smirked up at her at the comment, but his eyes were still hollow. His hesitation in replying suggested to her that he needed encouragement. "I know something's troubling you Scott," she said astutely. "I know it's hard Sweetie, but your brother's in the best possible place. Try not to worry too much." She frowned again, "Heck, I'm worrying for the both of us. And deep down inside, I'll bet your father is too."

Scott smiled but shrugged. "It's not that Grandma," he suddenly realised what he'd insinuated and began taking it back. "I mean, I am worried. Of course, I'm worried."

"But…" she prompted.

"But you should have seen him. He was so out of it Grandma, I'm surprised he even knew who I was." Scott admitted sadly, as he played with the tasselled fringe of the tablecloth.

"Oh Scott, but he did know." She smiled at him, "He knew you were there. Judging by what your father said last night, you and he saved Virgil's life getting to him when you did."

"You know what upset's me the most?" Scott asked all of a sudden.

The pensive and sad tone was surprising.

He didn't wait for his Grandmother to answer.

"I understand that it was an accident and I can get my head around seeing him so …. so confused and vulnerable…" he admitted. "Just," he added with a grimace. "But the thing that really sticks in my gut is that he kept apologising. He could barely stand up, or keep his eyes open but he was so desperate to apologise to me about the car."

Grandma was confused, "I don't think I understand Scott."

Scott looked up to meet her gaze from where he had been playing with the table cloth ends. "If I was barely conscious the last thing I'd be thinking about is the state of his car." He paused to shake his head, "I mean, does he really think it's that important to me. I love that car," he explained. "You know that Grandma, and Virgil knows it too. But he's my brother. Compared to him…." he trailed off, swallowing. "Compared to him the car's the last thing I'm bothered about."

"Scott, I'm sure Virgil knows that," she smiled but the oldest of her grandsons remained unconvinced.

"If he knew that Grandma, why was it so important to him that I understood he was sorry?" Scott frowned, "He must've said it at least six or seven times before the doctors took him away. Does he really think I'd put my car before him?"

Grandma saw straight through to the core of the problem. She took his hands in hers, as she had done the night before. "Virgil knows you love him Scott," she told him firmly, squeezing his hands and waiting for him to turn his teary eyes on her. "Like you said, he was very disorientated and confused; he probably didn't know what he was saying."

"It bothers me that he might think that though Grandma," Scott told her. "He doesn't talk to me anymore, I don't think he realises what he means to us," he shook his head.

"Then maybe you should remind him," she replied, with her usual perceptive ability.

Scott shrugged, "Aw Grandma, you know how I hate all that stuff, maybe there's some other way we can show him." He looked up to her hopefully, but she only gave him an amused grin in return.

"Sometimes son," she said, rubbing at his forearm. "We all have to do things we don't like doing. The only way you're going to know for sure, that Virgil understands he's not more important than your car," she paused. "Is if he hears it from your lips."

Scott nodded sadly and was about to reply when the 'phone rang. Making a dive for it, he held it up. "Dad? How is he?"

Grandma tutted and shook her head. She doubted Scott's theory that Virgil thought he came second to the car, very much. Both Virgil and Scott knew exactly how the other, and the rest of the family, felt about them.

She had no idea why Scott had taken any notice of Virgil's incoherent ramblings, let alone why he'd taken such a thing to heart.

She stopped herself: who was she kidding? She had a very good idea why.

She'd noticed how Virgil barely spoke to anyone now. Jeff had put it down to his age but Scott thought otherwise. He was taking his brother's teenage isolation, personally.

The elder boys especially seemed to have developed this notion that if you didn't discuss how you felt, it was a sign of your maturity.

Scott had always been a carbon copy of his father and he dealt with emotions in the same way.

Virgil, on the other hand, was like his mother in so many ways and had outlets that Scott frankly, didn't.

In a male dominated family, open gestures of love and affection were rare. A simple slap on the back or a brief squeeze of a shoulder conveyed more than a thousand declarations of love.

Sometimes though, just occasionally, everyone needed to know they were loved and appreciated.

XxxxX

Jeff entered the hospital room to find Virgil dressed and sat atop of the covers of the bed. His arms were wrapped around his knees, tucked under his chin and he looked miserable. Jeff's attention was drawn to the way the played with the dressing on the back of his hand.

Virgil didn't look up as his father came back into the room and sat down in front of him on the bed.

"Scott's on his way," Jeff announced. He was hoping the news would cheer his second eldest son up, but instead Virgil looked up at him. He looked away sheepishly, before shrugging his shoulders.

"Is he…" Virgil stopped and then sighed before starting again. "Is he mad with me?" he asked anxiously.

"Scott?" Jeff laughed, "No, of course not." He smiled, hoping he was being reassuring, "Why would he be?"

Virgil seemed to squirm for a few minutes before he replied. "I just thought he might be cross, y'know about the car."

"He's more worried about you," Jeff told him seriously. "I think you gave him quite a scare." He stopped himself adding that Virgil had given them all a scare, "Is everything okay between you two?"

"Yeah, fine." Virgil shrugged, still playing with the tape on the dressing on his hand. "He doesn't like Sofia," he said sadly after a pause.

"I know," Jeff nodded sympathetically.

"I wish he did." Virgil closed his eyes, "Or I wish, at least he could pretend to like her, for my sake."

"Scott's concerned you'll get hurt," Jeff responded to his son's honesty. "He's only doing what he thinks is best for you, you have to understand that too Son." He tried to compromise by getting to Virgil to see the situation from Scott's point of view.

"I know and I do understand, but he's wrong Dad." Virgil didn't seem to want to discuss the matter any further and looked down to his lap.

They lapsed into amiable silence for a while.

"Sofia would never do anything to hurt me," the time it took Virgil to come to that conclusion betrayed the certainty of it.

"Don't do that Son," Virgil looked up to his father to see him gesturing at where he fiddled involuntarily with the dressing on his hand. "It's not going to heal if you keep prodding and poking at it."

Virgil smiled weakly and separated his hands. "I feel so tired," he yawned. "I just want to sleep."

Jeff smiled back at him, "Well as soon as you get home, you can sleep for as long as you like." He watched his son's behaviour carefully; Virgil nodded but dropped his gaze again. He seemed deeply saddened, and Jeff didn't seem to be cheering him up. He was about to comment on his son's low mood when Virgil spoke again.

"I'm still not really sure I understand what happened," Virgil tried to think through his actions. "How did the fumes get in the car anyway?"

"Well no car's a sealed unit Son; there are gaps where your handbrake and gear lever are for a start." Jeff tried to explain. "It's not difficult for a gas to get in, especially when there's a constant supply and there's nowhere else for it to go." He sighed, "And it was cold out too. Did you have the fans on?" When Virgil nodded, he carried on his explanation, "And where do you think the hot air comes from?"

"The engine," Virgil groaned in realisation.

"That's also where the majority of the exhaust fumes are now, since there's no exhaust pipes for them to travel along." He stopped, trying to think of a parallel, "It's like when you drive through smoke, even when you've got the windows closed you can still smell it and any other smells outside the car."

Virgil had trouble accepting his fathers explanation, "But only a little bit Dad. Surely, there'd only be a little bit of engine fumes getting in to the car. How come I got so sick?"

"Well a little bit of carbon monoxide is all it takes Son," Jeff replied. "You heard what the doctor said this morning; it's odourlessand it only takes a very small concentration in the atmosphere to kill. You were in an enclosed space so the gas was staying in the car; it wasn't circulating. If you'd managed to pull the catalytic converter offtoo, the fumes would be even more toxic.And you were exposed to it for what? Nearly three hours?"

Virgil shrugged, "I don't know how long I was there before you found me."

"Well, you never reached Rob's house did you?" When Virgil shook his head, he continued to voice his theory, "So, when the tail pipe fell off you'd been travelling about an hour?"

Virgil nodded, "Yeah, just over, it was slow going what with the weather."

"Okay. Let's say you'd been travelling for an hour then. You 'phoned home when it happened right?" Virgil hesitated before he nodded, "Say that was at eight, that'd mean you'd been in the car…"

"No…" Virgil shook his head. "It took me a while to get the tail pipe off before I could carry on. I turned back, but I started to feel weird so I pulled over. I feel asleep and then I remember waking up." He frowned as he recounted the memories, "I knew I had to get home so I tried to drive on but I couldn't keep my eyes open and I felt really sick. I pulled up again, and then the last thing I remember was wanting to go home."

"So you'd been asleep," Jeff concluded. "For arguments sake, lets just say you were back on the road for half eight. We left home at half ten; I'll bet it was quarter passed eleven before we got to you. And the engine was still running after you pulled over. That'd mean you'd been in the car for three hours!"

"It didn't seem like that long," Virgil mused.

"No, but you said yourself you were asleep," Jeff raised his eyebrows and Virgil nodded sceptically. "You'd travelled a good way back down that dirt track; you were nearly at the highway."

"Really?" Virgil seemed surprised. "It felt like I'd been driving for miles, that road never seemed to end," he paused. "I can't remember anything else…" he ground out with a heavy frown, trying to pull partial memories together again.

"None of it really matters anymore now," Jeff said after a pause. There was an air of decisiveness to his voice; a certainty that Virgil was willing to let himself fall into. "You're okay, that's the main thing," he said.

Virgil lapsed into pensive silence for a moment. "Has Sofia called?" he asked, looking up at his father again. "I thought maybe when I didn't turn up at Rob's she would have?"

Jeff hated to quash his anticipation. "Not that I know of, but I've been here all night with you. Maybe she called this morning?" he suggested. He noted the disappointment on Virgil's features.

"Yeah maybe," Virgil was clearly unsure.

If it had been Sofia that hadn't turned up, when they'd prearranged something; he'd have been worried.

Obviously, she wasn't.

He had to admit it hurt a little.

Then he realised why and groaned, "Oh God, she probably thinks I stood her up." He let his head drop into his hands as he voiced his opinions aloud.

"Son, I'm sure once you explain what happened, everything will work out fine." Jeff tried to assure him and prevent him from worrying. He really didn't look like he needed the extra stress.

"She's going to be mad that I didn't get there," Virgil groaned again, dreading the response he'd get. After her insistence that he get there on time and in the right vehicle when he'd managed neither; he knew the punishment would be severe.

"Virgil," his father was saying. "She'll just be thankful you're okay, like us."

Jeff wondered whether now was such a good time to voice his doubts about the young girl. Deciding against it, he said nothing. Judging by the way Scott had spoken in the car, it was about time he and Virgil had a little chat.

Virgil mulled over the theory that she would understand. She could be pretty selfish at times, he'd been told that on numerous occasion and he knew it. Yet no one seemed to understand how beautiful she was; she was perfect in every way and she understood him. She might have been older than him but she made him feel like he had a place again; as if he belonged.

And that was exactly what he'd been looking for.

XxxxX

Jeff's hand tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel; in time to the beat of the music. Virgil had been quiet since leaving the hospital and he'd just about managed to convince himself that it was because he was still not feeling well.

Scott's silence however, wasn't as easy to explain. Pulling the car into a queue of traffic, Jeff sighed.

"It'll be good to be home, huh Virgil?" he grinned, rubbing at his stiff neck. "That chair was mighty uncomfortable."

"Yeah," Virgil replied softly.

"What are you thinking Scott?" Jeff glanced across at his eldest son.

Scott bit at his lip in contemplation. "How did you know?" he asked pensively. "As soon as I said about the exhaust, you knew what was wrong with him." He shrugged, "I thought he was drunk."

"So I didn't dream it?" Virgil piped up from the back of the car, attempting to clear some of the confusion.

"No Virgil," Jeff admitted sadly. "You didn't dream it."

"But I would never…." Virgil replied; shocked that his father would think that and quick to defend himself.

"I know that Son."

"It seemed like the only explanation Virg," Scott turned round in his seat to face his brother. "I'm sorry; we know you'd never do that." He hesitated, "But then again, you've not exactly been yourself just lately."

Virgil frowned indignantly at his older brother. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Jeff stepped in. "We both owe you an apology Virgil."

He shook his head, "We jumped to conclusions that we shouldn't have and we were both wrong."

Virgil nodded his acceptance of the apology and sat back, listening to the conversation as it continued. His gaze wandered to the street as they crept by. People seemed to be hurrying everywhere; a young couple caught his eye, walking hand in hand. They reminded him of himself and Sofia. Every so often the young blonde leant forward and kissed her partner, the same way Sofia had done to him countless times. He wondered why she hadn't tried to contact him, to at least check he was okay.

Meanwhile, Jeff continued. "And I owe you an apology too Scott," he glanced sideways at his eldest son again. "I didn't mean to snap at you, I was just worried about your brother."

"Yeah, I know," Scott nodded. "So, how did you know about the fumes?"

"Well," Jeff began. "When I was in the Air Force, a colleague of mine travelled half way across the state in a jeep that had a blocked exhaust. By the time we got to him, he was in a bad way. Slipped into a coma not long after." He shook his head, "Not something you forget."

Scott hung his head, feeling bad that he'd brought the topic of conversation up. "Was he okay?" he asked, in the hope that his father would give the tale a happy ending.

Jeff looked across at him sadly. "No," he replied. "He died. So you can see why it was so important we got Virgil to a hospital?" Virgil glanced up at them at themention of his name, but was quickly back watching the couple interact on the pavement.

The young man's arm was now snaked loosely round the blonde girl's waist, his hand resting comfortably on her hip; an outward display of the intimacy between them. They were laughing and joking with not a care in the world.

Virgil studied the young man; he was tall and dark haired, perhaps a bit younger than Scott but definitely older than himself. The young woman was slim, the same build as Sofia; curves in all the right places. Her hair was blonde and shoulder length, again just like Sofia's.

Virgil's quaint smile at the parallels faded to a frown as he got closer.

He tried to pull his eyes away, not wanting to witness the scene but it was impossible.

He had to watch as she giggled by his side and brushed her body against the young man's, just as she had done to him.

He had to watch as she snaked her arm round his waist, just as she'd done to him.

And he had to watch as she leaned forward and planted a kiss on the young man's lips.

The pit of Virgil's stomach fell away. For a secondall feeling drained from him and he felt hollow. Then, like a tidal wave,the emotionslammed in to him full force; shock, anger, humiliation, rage, embarrassment.

He wondered if his heart had actually stopped; it certainly felt that way.

Oblivious to his brother's discovery Scott sighed, understanding perfectly what his father was saying. "I know, it's okay Dad. I'm sorry I seemed so worried about the car; I wasn't at all." He turned to his brother. "So, Virg…" he trailed off when he realised he didn't have Virgil's attention. "Virgil?" He followed his brother's gaze through the darkened windows, seeing exactly what Virgil was seeing.

Virgil snapped his head round, pretending that it was his imagination playing tricks on him. It was too late though, Scott had already seen and he already understood.

"Yeah?" Virgil looked up at him, trying hard not to let his heartbreak show.

"Isn't that…"

"No," Virgil blurted out quickly, before Scott had a chance to finish.

It was one of those moments in their lives when no almost certainly meant yes.

Unable to keep his eyes from turning back, he watched the couple again. It was almost as if he had to keep checking that it was Sofia, his brain couldn't seem to process the notion.

"Isn't that who, Scott?" Jeff asked, turning to look down the street.

"Oh, no one," Scott shook his head. Virgil had made it obvious he didn't want to draw attention to Sofia's presence and Scott could only support his brother. "Virgil's right, it's not who I thought it was."

Jeff seemed satisfied so Scott risked a backward glance to where Virgil had rested his head against the cool of the darkened glass and closed his eyes. Scott huffed angrily, wanting nothing more than to give Sofia a piece of his mind. If it hadn't been for the fact that Virgil obviously didn't want to advertise the fact, Scott would have ordered his father to stop the car and done exactly that.

Deep down though, he knew how attached Virgil had gotten to Sofia in his absence. Though a part of him realised this was what his brother needed to snap out of his recent behaviour, he knew Virgil was struggling to hide his devastation. He could only hope that he wouldn't take it too hard.

Feeling like his world had just been turned upside down; Virgil let his eyes drift close against the harsh reality. Maybe this was a dream, he tried to convince himself but it was no use. A thousand questions flooded his mind, none of which he could answer. Silently, he sat back and tried to keep his desolation to himself.

The last thing he needed was more fuss.


	6. Five

**A/N: **Many thanks to everyone who's taken the time to comment so far. This is the penultimate chapter, so the final one will be up tomorrow (finger's crossed).

**Chapter FIVE:**

"Boys!" Grandma shouted as she struggled to make lunch for everyone with only one pair of hands. In the background the 'phone rang, "Can someone answer that!" No reply came and still the 'phone continued. She opened her mouth to shout to John but stopped herself; not wanting to burden the already sick teenager. "Gordon!" she bellowed. "Answer the 'phone please!" She breathed a sigh of relief as the endless ringing ceased and she presumed one of them, if not Gordon, had answered.

In the room alongside, Alan was watching his brother talk into the 'phone from where he sat at the bottom of the stairs. "Yeah, that's great." Gordon was saying, without meaning. "Yes Sir," he said again. "I will, I won't let you down." There was another pause, Alan watched anxiously as his brother nodded. "Thank you Sir, I'll see you then." With that, he replaced the headset to its base.

"Was that Dad?"a dressing gown clad John rasped from the top of the stairs.

Gordon shook his head. "No," he replied as John walked down the stairs and into the lounge, plopping himself down in front of the fire with his blanket, he began reading his book.

"Who was it then?" Alan asked as he approached his copper haired brother.

"It was my swim coach," Gordon shrugged, "I made the squad."

"Really?" Alan exclaimed excitedly as he reached forward to hug his brother. "That's great!" he enthused. When Gordon pulled away from his open arms, it became obvious his brother didn't feel the ecstasy he did, and Alan hesitated. "Isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," Gordon shrugged again, offering his brother a half hearted smile. "I just thought it was going to be Dad, that's all," he said sombrely. "He said he'd call when they left the hospital."

"Maybe he forgot," Alan nodded, understanding now why his brother's mood seemed so melancholy. "Scott said he'd be fine," he tried to reassure his brother. "What are you going to say to Dad?" he asked anxiously, glancing up to his brother.

The older of the two shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said glumly.

"What do you think Dad'll do?" Alan asked again, not satisfied with the answer he'd already got. "I mean, it can't be worse than what he did at Christmas." The younger blonde became perplexed, "I still don't get how he found out we ate all the chocolate from that advent calendar. Maybe he's got super powers and he can read our minds." His excitable young mind was running away with itself, "You know, like in John's comic books?"

"Whatever," Gordon replied abruptly. "I don't care," he ran a hand over his face. "And I don't care what Dad does either." Alan's eyebrows rose up in shock at that comment. As both of them well knew, some of their father's punishments could be fearsome. "Why aren't they home yet?" Gordon worried. "Maybe they had to keep him in longer."

"No, Scott would have called. They'll be here." Alan's innocent faith didn't reassure his brother. "Don't worry Gordy, he'll be okay," he stopped and turned to the kitchen. "Hey, lunch is nearly ready. You coming?"

Gordon nodded and trudged along behind his younger brother as they made their way into the kitchen. His mind ran through the endless directions this conversation with his father could go; reluctantly he came to a decision. Whatever his father said, he'd agree and just knuckle down and get on with it; what he did was wrong and he had to accept the punishment like a big boy.

For some reason, as he sat at the table opposite his youngest blonde brother and stared at the three empty seats around him, whatever punishment his father dished out didn't bother him.

John had just joined them when they heard the door open. Three heads shot up to share anxious expressions. There was a moment where all three of them just looked at each other before simultaneously jumping up from the table and rushing into the porch.

"Virgil!" "Hey, Virg!" "Are you okay?" "How are you feeling?" "What happened Virg?" "How are you doing?"

Virgil almost physically took a step back from the barrage of questions that his brothers fired at him. His head still pounded and he was grateful that Scott took a step forward with outstretched arms. "Guys! Guys!" He smiled at their over enthusiastic concern, "Just give him some space, come on." He ushered them back into the kitchen as their father led Virgil into the room.

One voice was absent from the urgently asked questions, Gordon headed back into the kitchen carrying his guilt with him.

They stood around, watching Virgil as he sat down at one of the kitchen chairs.

"Welcome home sweetheart," Grandma leant forward, placing a kiss on his cheek and breaking the silence. "Just in time for some lunch," she smiled as she placed a plate, piled high with sandwiches, on the table.

Virgil tried to speak but his voice came out more of a whisper, he coughed and tried again. "Actually Grandma," he smiled up at her as best as he could. "I'm feeling really tired, I think I'm going to go to bed." He rose carefully and headed off, pausing at the door, "Has anyone called for me?" he asked. Several shakes of the head followed and he continued on his way upstairs.

"Go and check he's okay, Scott." Jeff turned to his eldest son as he plopped down in the chair Virgil had just vacated. Jeff ran a hand over his head before looking up to find three sets of anxious eyes staring at him. "He's fine boys; he's just tired that's all," he assured them. "Now sit down and eat your lunch."

John and Alan complied, sliding into their seats and reaching for the pile of sandwiches on the table. However, Gordon hesitated; eyeing the door. He desperately wanted to follow Scott up the stairs and take the time to apologise to his brother. Hoping he wouldn't be noticed, he attempted to sneak out of the room.

"Gordon!" His father's raised voice caused him to halt mid-step. "Sit down and eat. I don't want to have to tell you again," Jeff snapped. "After lunch you can help Grandma and then I want to talk to you in my study."

Alan looked across the table at his brother sheepishly, "You too, Alan." Jeff added. The young blonde swallowed and nodded at his father. Jeff turned his attention to his middle son who sat playing with his food. "How are you feeling John?" the question came as more of a snap then he intended, and he softened his tone deliberately. "Any better?"

"Kind of," John replied timidly. "I've just been sat in front of the fire all morning, taking it easy like you said."

"Good," Jeff smiled at him with a nod. "How's the head?" he asked in concern.

"Still aches a bit, I've got a sore throat too now," he admitted, automatically reaching up to the area. "I think maybe I'm going to go back to my room after lunch, I've got some work I need to do anyway." Secretly, he just didn't want to be around when his father was shouting at the terrible two. With his head pounding already; that was the last thing he needed.

"Don't work too hard if you're not well John," Jeff directed before smiling up gratefully at his mother as she laid a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. "Especially if you've got a headache Son, they're always the worst." He picked the coffee cup up, "Thanks Mom. I'll be in my study when you two are ready." He eyed Gordon and Alan before making his exit.

"Jeff!" His mother rose to her feet and called after him. She turned back to the table; "Now you three save some for Scott." she warned, waggling a finger in their direction before she proceeded to chase after her son. "Jeff!"

"What is it Mom?" he turned back to her, half way across the lounge.

"Jeff," she sighed, wiping her hands on the dish cloth that swung from her apron. "Don't be too hard on Gordon. He's been stewing all night about Virgil; he knows what he did was wrong. Believe me Son, nothing you can say or do is going to punish him more than he's punishing himself right now." Jeff looked across at her, surprised.

"Even so Mom, what he did last night was selfish and extremely stupid. I don't care what Virgil said or did to him, he shouldn't have done that," he shook his head, the disappointment evident. "Gordon has to realise how serious this is; Virgil could have died!" he growled out, realising as he did that there was a sudden lack of conversation in the kitchen. He cursed himself, knowing perfectly well that his young sons would be listening to their conversation.

"Yes Jeff," his mother was telling him sternly. "But Gordon couldn't have known that." She frowned at him in anger, "Maybe if Virgil had told him how important the situation was, things would have turned out differently."

"Maybe if he'd let Virgil, he would have," Jeff snapped back.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds, thinking through the others point of view. It seemed like forever before the 'phone rang, breaking the silence.

"That'll be Antonio for Scott, I'll get it," Jeff spoke curtly before he turned on his heel and headed off into his study.

XxxxX

Scott stood apprehensively outside the closed door. Despite his father telling him to check on his brother, he knew Virgil wouldn't appreciate the fuss and was in two minds as to whether to continue. Especially after what had happened on the way home; Virgil would probably need some space first to get his head round things.

Scott sighed, placing a hand up to the wooden panel to knock. As the eldest he'd become accustomed to knocking merely to warn of his impending entrance and it was only recently that Virgil had challenged him about it. With that in mind, he stopped himself reaching for the door handle and awaited some kind of response. When none came instantaneously, he knocked again.

"Virgil?" he added tentatively, "It's me."

He heard an exasperated groan from through the door before the reply came. "What?" Virgil asked, his tone portraying his frustration.

Scott took it as consent to continue and pushed the door open, walking slowly inside. The curtains were drawn and though it was daylight outside, the room seemed dark and dull. As Scott headed a cross to where he knew Virgil's bed was, it took him a while to adjust to the dimness. Sure enough though, Virgil was on the bed, pushing himself up into a sitting position as his brother neared.

Scott gestured to the darkened window, "You got a headache?" he frowned as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Virgil nodded, "Yeah but the Doctor said it was normal," he added defensively as he eyed Scott, already preparing himself for the ominous 'talk'.

Scott nodded too, but he looked over his brother in concern. "Okay, apart from that, are you alright?"

"Yeah, tired." The younger man responded curtly. He knew what Scott was really asking but avoided the hidden question. "I just didn't feel like being the prize attraction at the freak show tonight." He didn't give Scott the chance to question him further.

Scott sighed. He could understand that; the way all their brothers had surrounded him and asked questions was a little overwhelming. He knew Virgil wouldn't want anyone to cause a fuss and he'd be uncomfortable enough in the knowledge that his family were worried about him. Scott still thought he needed to remind his brother that, even though they might be a pain but, they were his family and they were only concerned for his wellbeing. "They don't realise you feel like that," he began. "It's just that they're worried about you."

"Yeah I know," Virgil groaned, running a hand over his head and rubbing at his eyes. He leant back against the headboard, "I didn't mean…" he trailed off, not entirely sure what it was he didn't mean anymore.

"It's okay," Scott sighed. "I understand," he nodded, though he didn't understand at all. He could try to empathise, but he could never fully understand.

Virgil shook his head, forcing himself to look at his brother. "You do, huh?" He questioned acerbically. "Oh yeah, I forgot! You know everything, don't you?" Virgil's sarcastic reply, even muttered as it was, stung Scott more than he would admit. He bit his lip and tried to keep his temper in check; the last thing he wanted was to argue.

"I'm trying, Virg," Scott said sympathetically. He tried to remind himself that Virgil was upset and was just lashing out.

Scott's reply just proved that the older brother was upset and Virgil regretted causing such a reaction. Scott had gone out of his way to help him out, these last few days. Despite how things were between them with regard to Sofia; he'd still offered him the use of his car and look how that'd turned out. Virgil was sure his father had something to do with it somewhere along the line, but then again Scott definitely wouldn't have offered up his pride and joy, unless he wanted too.

"I'd understand a whole lot more, if you talked to me," Scott added.

Virgil instantly shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I don't want to talk about it. None of it," he was adamant. "Just leave it Scott," he warned, "you know nothing, okay?"

Scott could see he was struggling with getting his head round what they'd both seen and just nodded. "But Virg…" he went to reach out to his brother's shoulder but Virgil pulled away before he had a chance.

"Don't," Virgil snapped back. "I said leave it," he paused, looking away and breathing heavily. "Just leave me alone Scott."

Scott sighed again, "Look, I just want you to know I'm here if you want to talk." He paused, "About Sofia… and stuff."

Virgil scoffed loudly in response, "So as you can say I told you so and play the big man." He shook his head, "No, I don't think so Scott."

"Virgil…" Scott attempted to refute the claim.

"Just go, will you." Virgil snarled as he turned his back on his brother and made himself comfortable, "Just leave me the hell alone!"

Not wanting to make things even worse, Scott did as requested and turned away. "Okay," he agreed.

Virgil practically felt how much his older brother was hurting after all the things he'd said, even with his back turned and his eyes closed. Slowly he turned over in time to see Scott heading for the door.

"I'm just tired," Virgil said softly as his brother reached the door, "I need some sleep, that's all." Scott nodded at the quiet apology. It didn't really change how he felt inside at what had happened just recently though. He came to the sad conclusion that Virgil had made his wishes clear, maybe it was time he respected them.

"Oh," Scott turned back to his brother, fishing about in his pocket, "This is yours." He handed Virgil his 'phone, "I met Antonio at the car this morning, before I came to pick you up."

Virgil smiled a little, "Oh thanks Scott," he took the small communications device and reached for the charger by his bed. Setting it down in its cradle, it bleeped as it came to life. "I've probably got a ton of messages on here from…" he stopped, realising what he was about to say.

Scott needed no more clues to finish the sentence off and just nodded. "Yeah well," he hesitated at the door. "I'll leave you the hell alone," the despondency he felt was clear from those words.

Virgil nodded absently, operating the 'phone instead. By the time he realised what Scott had said and looked up, the door was clicking closed. However, the words were enough to know how much his comments had stung his older brother.

He sighed.

He had an awful lot to think about.

XxxxX

It was much later that evening when Jeff crept into the darkened room, tray in hand. Placing the tray on the floor, he perched on the edge of the bed.

To begin with, he just sat there watching in silent contemplation. His only movement was tentatively reaching forward to brush a few errant strands of chestnut away.

Eventually, Virgil stirred. Jeff found himself looking down at two groggy, brown eyes. "How are you feeling?" he smiled.

Virgil blinked and licked his lips. "Okay," he replied roughly.

Jeff hesitated in replying, taking in everything about his son. "Your Grandmother made you some soup. You should try to eat something," he encouraged as he gestured to the tray.

Virgil swallowed and made the effort to sit up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten yet he didn't feel all that hungry. He tried to appear grateful when his father placed the tray in his lap. As he hesitantly picked up a piece of bread and began eating, he was aware of his father watching his every move.

Jeff noticed his son's apprehension and began talking to fill the silence. "Y'know, between your grandmother and your brothers it's a wonder you got any rest at all this afternoon." He grinned, "They've been up and down those stairs so much I'm surprised we don't need new carpet!"

Virgil smiled but in truth, knowing they'd been worried just made him feel worse. "I'm sorry about all this, Dad," he apologised.

Jeff shook his head, "It's not your fault, it was an accident. I do think we need to have a talk though…" he was about to go on further, when there was a sharp knock at the door. Virgil had a good idea of the 'talk' that was to come and was relieved when John's head appeared.

"Hey," John smiled at his father and then at Virgil, before looking back at his father. "Dad, there's a call for you downstairs."

With clear reluctance, Jeff got up and headed out of the room. "I'll be back later," he smiled with a raised eyebrow. "For that chat," he disappeared past John and out into the corridor.

John hurried forward to sit in the spot his father had just vacated. "How are you?" he asked, watching Virgil carefully.

"I'm fine," the elder of the two replied. He continued to eat, distracted only by John's frenzied grin. When glancing up at his younger brother a few times did nothing to dispel the smirk, Virgil looked at him puzzled.

"What?"

John's grin just widened causing Virgil to frown suspiciously.

"What?" he repeated.

In reply, John pointed to the wooden desk on the other side of the room. Virgil followed his gaze and then had to look again. Sat on his desk as if it had never moved, was his computer. "You got it working?" he asked incredulously.

"No," John replied. "I thought it'd make a good ornament. Of course I got it working!" He seemed pleased when Virgil's expression matched his own.

"That's great!" Virgil enthused. "Thanks John."

Standing up, John retrieved the computer before setting it down on his lap. "I think it just needed time to dry out. It seems to be working okay now." He opened the machine up whilst Virgil moved the tray in his lap on to the bedside table. "Obviously if it starts billowing smoke or sparking, then it'll have to go in to the shop."

Virgil pulled the machine into the space the tray had occupied, his eyes gleaming. "Thanks John, I really appreciate it."

The younger blonde just shook his head and shrugged, "I didn't do anything really." He was pleased his older brother seemed to perk up a bit at the news that, at least, he wouldn't have to face the wrath of their father. "But Scott asked me not to say anything to Dad."

"He would have killed me. Thanks John," Virgil repeated. "Hey, did err… did anyone call this afternoon, whilst I was asleep?" he tried to appear casual.

John nodded, having forgotten. "Oh yeah, Rob called. He said he'd call back later." When he realised Virgil was waiting patiently for him to continue, he shook his head. "That's it."

"No one else called?" Virgil enquired as smoothly as could.

"No, sorry." John shook his head, knowing Virgil was expecting a call from Sofia, "Only Antonio about Scott's car."

Virgil screwed his face up sadly but then seemed to realise John was still there and shrugged a smile, "Never mind, it's not important."

Both of them turned as the bedroom door was pushed ajar. "Virg I…" Gordon's voice trailed off when he realised Virgil wasn't alone. "Sorry," he looked away uncomfortably, "Dad said you were awake, I thought… It doesn't matter." He shook his head, "I'll come back later."

John jumped to his feet, "No, it's okay," he smiled. "I'd better go, Dad says we're not to bother you and I don't want to give you this cold. I'll talk to you later." He knew Gordon wanted to speak to their bother and he had a good idea why too. He thought it best to leave them to it.

Gordon shuffled into the room as John left. He looked around uncomfortably, coughing and hopping from foot to foot. "I wanted to talk to you…" Virgil studied him, as he made his way forward and stood by the bed. "Erm…" Gordon hesitated; Virgil found this sudden diffidence in his brother, disturbing. "It's about last night," Gordon's gaze remained fixed to the floor and he seemed unwilling to look up.

"What?" Virgil frowned, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Just…" Gordon finally looked up to meet his brother's gaze.

In the darkness, Virgil noticed his red eyes and became concerned.

"What is it? What's wrong?" his frown deepened.

Gordon took a few deep breathes before he began. "I just … I'm really sorry about last night," he made the mistake of pausing and suddenly his hands were trembling. Taking another deep breath, he clenched his jaw. Virgil patted the bed clothes where John had been perched and Gordon complied to the command, not needing any more encouragement. "I never meant…" he trailed off.

"I know," Virgil nodded, sympathising with his second youngest brother. A thought struck him that would explain Gordon's red eyes. "Have you spoken to Dad?" Gordon apprehensively met his brother's gaze and nodded, "What did he say?"

Gordon shrugged, "I have to do your chores and help Grandma." He sniffled and Virgil watched him struggle to control himself.

"Come on Gords," Virgil reached out for his brother's arm, strumming it reassuringly. "That's not so bad," he shook his head. "Look, it's partly my fault too. I'll be better tomorrow, so I can help you." His words didn't seem to lessen the younger boy's distress. "Don't get upset, you know what Dad's punishments are like; it could've been worse."

Gordon sniffed again, looking at his brother with wide eyes, "It's not that." He reached a hand up to wipe his nose, "That's not why I'm upset."

Virgil knew their father could be terrifying when he was angry. He didn't doubt the dressing down Gordon had received would have been a frightening experience. "Then what is it?" he puzzled.

Gordon took a deep breath and licked his lips. "Dad said…" he shrugged and sighed. His breath faltered and it sounded more like a strangled sob, but he seemed to pull himself together again. "Dad said…" he tried again, "that you could have died." He sniffed again, wiping his nose and hanging his head, "It would've been all my fault."

"Gords," Virgil sighed as he continued to rub the younger man's arm and he shook his head. "Gordon, it wasn't just your fault. What about Scott? It was his car. And what about Dad? He was the one that promised us both."

Gordon clung to what little dignity he had left and tried hard not to let himself dissolve into tears right there at the thought. The idea that he'd caused Virgil a night in hospital was bad enough but the thought that his actions could have been fatal made him feel terrible. He shook his head, "But that was my fault too; if Dad hadn't promised me he'd take me to practice then none of this would have happened."

"That's not true, Dad shouldn't have promised us both. It was an accident Gords; lots of factors contribute to an accident but sometimes, they just happen," Virgil tried to reassure his brother. "And what about me, huh?" he shrugged. "I'm the one that sat in the car with the engine running. I'm the one that pulled the exhaust off. I'm the one that went out with a 'phone that was barely charged!" He sighed, "It's my fault as much as anyone's." Virgil hesitated, he knew he should apologise for his behaviour yesterday but he couldn't seem to find his voice. "Maybe if I hadn't said those things or if I'd just apologised…" he looked up to his younger brother. "I'm sorry too; I shouldn't have said the things I did," Gordon shrugged and Virgil felt it was safe to continue. "Okay, now we've both apologised so let's not talk about it anymore, huh?" he suggested. "I'll forgive you, if you forgive me?"

"Yeah," Gordon nodded. "Deal," he smiled and Virgil was pleased to see his eyes light up a little.

"So, how did practice go anyway? You never said." Virgil asked, returning his brother's smile.

"Practice was cancelled," Gordon admitted glumly. "We came home, that's how come I was here to answer your call."

"Oh yeah," Virgil shook himself; he hadn't thought of that. "Well what about the team, when will the coach decide?"

Gordon shrugged modestly. "He already did," he said. He looked to his hands, winding his fingers together again and again. He was more than aware that Virgil was waiting for him to expand but he refrained from facing his brother.

Virgil waited patiently for Gordon to look at him. When he could take the suspense no longer, he encouraged him.

"And?" he tried to catch Gordon's gaze, succeeding in holding it. "What did he decide? Are you in?" Gordon saw his opening, and carefully schooled every muscle in his face into a sad frown. "Hey never mind Kid," Virgil sympathised on seeing the expression. "You're still young. There's always next year for you, other kids are older and they won't get the chance again."

"They're not going to get the chance this year either!" Gordon grinned. "I'm in."

"You're really in?" Gordon nodded his head and Virgil let out a laugh. "Why, you little…. You really had me there!" Virgil narrowed his eyed and shook his head at his brother's foolery before grinning. "It's great Gords!" he enthused. "That's really great, congratulations! I'm really pleased," he laughed again as he pulled Gordon into a semi-hug. "Have you told Dad? Or Scott?"

Gordon shook his head, "No, there's only Al and you that know so far. It didn't seem like the right time to say before."

Virgil held him tighter and smiled again. "Scott's going to be really pleased for you."

"You think?" Gordon shrugged. "He was pretty mad with me last night when Alan told him."

Virgil looked at his little brother, confused as to what Gordon was talking about. "Told him what?" he asked.

"What I'd done," Gordon told him, swallowing uncomfortably. "Y'know," he shrugged. "Not telling Dad you'd called." Virgil nodded and he went on. "Scott was really mad, he was worried about you."

"Me or his car?" Virgil scoffed and shook his head.

"You," Gordon replied, his tone nothing but serious. "Definitely you."

Virgil ignored the comment and retreated to safer grounds for conversation. "Dad's going to be really pleased you made the team," he smiled. "Maybe it'd lighten things up around here; you should tell Scott and John too."

Gordon opened his mouth to reply, however another voice beat him to it. "Tell Scott what?" Both Gordon and Virgil turned to see their older brother stood in the doorway, his arms folded sternly across his chest and a deep scowl dominating his features.

"Oh nothing…" Gordon covered a little too quickly as he got to his feet.

"Well then you'd better get downstairs and help Grandma out, before Dad notices you're not there already," Scott suggested, not changing his stance. Virgil could tell from Scott's body language alone he was cross and assumed his older brother was probably still sore after the way he'd spoken to him earlier.

"Yeah, you're right," Gordon nodded as he hurried past Scott. Only turning back to share a passing glance with Virgil; Scott's attitude just proved the point he'd been trying to make. "Thanks Virg," he smiled as he disappeared into the hallway.

"Don't be so hard on him," Virgil said as soon as the door had clicked closed. "It wasn't all his fault."

Scott raised an eyebrow at that comment and the sudden change in Virgil's attitude. He wondered if Virgil was implying it was his fault and was about to respond accordingly. The way his brother had been behaving recently, he wouldn't be surprised. He bit his tongue and shrugged, pointing to the tray by Virgil's bed, "I'll take this with me; keep Gordon busy," he commented as he picked it up and realised the food had barely been touched. "Are you done with it? You've hardly eaten anything."

"Yeah, thanks. I don't feel that hungry," Virgil nodded. He'd had a lot of time to think over the last few hours, about what could've happened and he knew, that he should put an end to this awkwardness between them. As Scott walked towards the door though, he couldn't find the right words. "Scott," he called. "Have you got a minute?"

Scott turned back, tray in hand. For a few minutes, he considered his reply. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation and the way things had been going lately, if he stayed, that was more than likely to happen. With a shrug of the shoulders, he trained his expression into an apologetic smile, "Not really." Realising he'd have to expand on that, he bit his bottom lip, "I told Alan I'd help with some homework he's doing."

Before Virgil had really processed the words and the fact that Scott was blatantly lying; he'd gone. Letting his head drop back against the head rest, Virgil ran a hand over his face in frustration.

He doubted he could really blame Scott for avoiding him, after the way things had been, but he hoped he hadn't left it too late.


	7. Six

**Chapter SIX:**

"Jeff, what are you doing?" Jeff's head snapped up, as light suddenly filtered into the room through the open door where his mother stood. "It's nearly midnight," she added, glancing at her watch.

"Is it?" he asked, glancing at his own watch as if to check. "I hadn't realised the time; one minute we were talking, the next he'd fallen asleep." He smiled dreamily, "I couldn't bring myself to leave." He yawned loudly and stretched.

"Shh!" Grandma scolded in reply. "Don't wake him!"

She paused; "Talking huh?"

She knew exactly what that little 'talk' would have been about. "How is he?" she gestured to the figure asleep on the bed, as she stepped into the room and came to stand by her son.

Jeff sighed, "Okay, I think. Are the others in bed?" A nod was his only reply and he went back to studying his second eldest son as he slept. The silence that enveloped them was an amiable one, and the quiet was perfect for his brooding thought pattern. A long few minutes passed, before he heaved an intense sigh.

Grandma made no effort to intervene. Like she'd known Scott had something on his mind the night before, she knew her son better than she knew anyone and, she knew he had something to say. Patiently, she waited and sure enough, it came.

"You know Mom, when I pulled up here last night I thought about how hard this weekend was going to be." He kept his voice low, so as not to disturb the sleeping teen, "What with it being Valentines weekend and everything," he expanded. "I knew it was going to be difficult but I never envisaged it would be like this."

"None of us did," she reassured him. "But it's worked out for the best. The important thing is you have your boys around you."

"I know," Jeff replied. He paused before he went on, "Y'know, Valentines is always just a reminder of what I don't have anymore." He stopped and shook his head, "It's everywhere I look; telling us we should appreciate that special person in our lives, the one we love more than anything." He heaved another sigh, "I didn't think I had that anymore; that special person to love."

A few seconds of contemplative silence slipped by.

"The last twenty four hours has taught me that I haven't got that one special person in my life anymore." He looked up to her, with a smile filled only with pride and contentment, "I have five of them instead." He turned away again, as he ran a hand over Virgil's head, "Does that make sense?"

"Of course it does," Grandma grinned and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Valentines is about love Son, but there are many different forms of love; each one as special as the next."

"It's wrong though," Jeff frowned, not taking his eyes off Virgil. "That I needed this to happen to make me realise that." He swallowed, "There I was feeling sorry for myself because I don't have a wife to love anymore and all the time, I was overlooking the fact that I have five beautiful sons."

"Jeff," his mother replied. "I know for a fact, you could never 'overlook' your boys," she said with confidence. "This is a hard time of year for all of us," her voice took a wistful tone. "But we get through it," she added with a determined smile. "It makes us think about what's important to us and appreciate the people we love. The reason you have five beautiful sons, is because you're a wonderful father and I'm proud of you."

Jeff scoffed, "I appreciate the sentiment Mom, but at the end of the day I'm as responsible as Gordon for all this. I was the one that promised Virgil the car and I was the one that asked Scott to lend him the Porsche. Those aren't the actions of a wonderful father; they're just plain bad decisions."

"That's silly! You couldn't have known what was going to happen anymore than anyone else." The grip on his shoulder increased, in reassurance. "Jeff, you said it yourself; it was an accident." Grandma told him sternly, "You can't change what's happened in the past Son but in the future, you can show those five special people in your life just how important they are." She rubbed his shoulder, "It's all too easy in this world to concentrate on what you haven't got, when maybe you should be counting your blessings instead. Sometimes we all need reminding of the things we might otherwise take for granted, that way we can really appreciate what we've got."

"God, I do appreciate what I've got," Jeff sighed as he studied his sleeping son. "The thought of losing him, or any of them Mom; it makes me sick," he screwed his nose up.

"Father?" a sleepy voice asked, as Virgil stirred. "Dad?"

"Shh," Jeff soothed. "It's alright, just go back to sleep," he briefly glanced up to see his mother gesturing at the door. Getting to his feet, he continued to run his hand over Virgil's hair until he was sure his young son was asleep. Then, with a gentle kiss on his forehead, he pulled the covers up and tucked them round him. "Night Son," he whispered. "I love you."

XxxxX

Virgil sighed; he turned over again, fingers entwining under his head, and looked up to the ceiling.

He'd had a lot to think about today and with so much to consider, it wasn't surprising that his mind wouldn't shut down enough to sleep again.

Recent events had given him a wake up call and helped him to clarify what was important in his life. He'd come to several conclusions; some of which, he wasn't all that appreciative of. The time alone in his room this afternoon hadn't solely been spent 'resting' as his father had assumed. He'd considered his options after Sofia's betrayal and had thought long and hard about his family; more specifically, his behaviour recently and his relationship with Scott.

Glancing at the clock, he realised he'd been awake for nearly two hours and he doubted he was about to get back to sleep. With a sigh he pushed himself up off the pillows, and reached for his 'phone. Newly charged, he was hoping for an influx of messages.

He was sorely disappointed.

Another sigh escaped his lips before he finally made the decision to go in search of a warm drink, hoping it would help him sleep.

As he reached the lounge, he realised the fire was roaring and had recently been stoked. He took a few moments to absorb some of the heat before moving on to the kitchen. As he approached, he could hear the tell tale signs that someone was already inside. Hedging his bets on it being either his Grandmother or his father, he was surprised to see his older brother standing by the kettle.

"Hey," he said softly as he hovered by the door. After Scott's clear reluctance to talk earlier, he wondered how his brother would react.

Scott turned to him quickly. "Oh, hey," he replied, his tone illustrating his surprise. "Are you okay?"

Virgil nodded as he slipped into one of the kitchen chairs. "Yeah," he shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?"

Scott raised his eyebrows. "I couldn't sleep either." The silence between the bouts of conversation was awkward. "I'm err, I'm making a drink. Do you want one?" Scott asked with a degree of hesitation.

"Please," Virgil returned his smile just as awkwardly. Scott busied himself making the drinks, leaving Virgil to contemplate the silence that settled, far too easily, around them. "Dad told me about the car," Virgil swallowed, feeling a little guilty. "He said it'll be expensive," Scott shrugged but didn't look up from where he the kettle clicked off. "I'll help you out as much as I can," Virgil offered

"You don't have to do that, Dad said he's going to pay for it," Scott told him as he carried two mugs across to the table and sat down opposite his brother.

"I'd feel better if I contributed something," Virgil told his brother. "I was thinking maybe I could get a few more hours helping Mrs Fetter after school," he swallowed. "I know it wouldn't be much compared to how much it's going to cost to get it fixed but it'd be something."

Scott shrugged again, "I said don't worry about it."

"Scott please, let me contribute something," Virgil sighed. "It'd make me feel better."

"Look, I told you Dad's going to foot the bill," Scott repeated. "In the time we've spent arguing about it, he's probably earned enough to buy us both new Porsches and then some." His tone was clipped; not snapped but brusque enough for Virgil to know he wasn't happy.

Virgil watched him look towards the door and knew he was about to make another excuse. "Well we weren't really arguing about it were we?" he swallowed, preventing Scott from taking the opportunity to leave.

"Yeah well it makes a change then," Scott muttered. It wasn't said maliciously. Instead, his tone was one of frustration. He'd given up trying to help Virgil; he was ready to sit back and accept that his brother had grown up and moved on.

Not sure how to reply to that, Virgil mumbled an apology. "I never meant for any of this to happen, I'm so sorry Scott."

"Yeah, you mentioned that," the older brother replied. "Quite a few times." Scott assumed the apology was meant with a view to the car and not in the wider sense that Virgil had meant it.

"I did?" Virgil was confused but Scott just nodded. "Y'know," Virgil began hesitantly, trying to keep the conversation ticking over. "I think that's the worst part; there are big chunks that I just don't remember, the doctor said it was normal because I was so out of it, but it's frustrating." He sighed, "I keep thinking; did I say something I shouldn't have? Did I do something stupid?" He shrugged, "But no matter how hard I try to think, I just can't remember."

"You didn't do anything stupid," Scott reassured him; his own despondency was fast melting at the vulnerability Virgil oozed. "Well, you almost threw up all over Dad," he added with a grin. "But that wasn't really stupid when you think about what I would have done to you if you'd chucked up in my car," Scott joked. However when he smiled at his brother, he realised Virgil wasn't finding it all that funny.

"I'm joking Virg," the comment was rewarded with a small smile, but there was still doubt in Virgil's eyes. "You err…" Scott continued. "You kept saying you wanted to go home and that you were sorry; to be honest, I don't think you knew what you were saying.." Scott hesitated, lifting his eyes to his brother before he went on. "You must've apologised nearly ten times, before we got to the hospital; I guess it was pretty important to you." He paused again, "There's nothing to apologise for though."

Virgil cupped his hands around the mug in front of him, weaving his fingers together. Somehow, the sharp pain at the site of the burn, when he gripped the mug, was reassuring.

"Would you still think that if I told you I was going too fast when it happened?" He took a quick breath, "She called and I was going to be late, so I tried to hurry up." He looked up at Scott, expecting him to have some angry retort waiting about how selfish he had been. Virgil wouldn't have blamed him, but he'd already decided he was going to be honest; no more secrets, no more lies and no more concealing the facts, even if that did mean facing Scott's wrath.

Scott took a deep breath and pensively bit his bottom lip. The way Virgil had spoken of Sofia didn't go unnoticed but he wasn't about to start that old argument again. There was anticipation filled silence as he thought through what he was going to say; he didn't really care how it had happened, just that Virgil was okay.

Virgil on the other hand, was anticipating a chewing out.

Eventually, Scott let his shoulders sag and sat forward, "Virgil, it would have happened anyway." He raised his hands, as if he were going to shrug but then let them drop back down again, "It was just unlucky that you were driving. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time; it was an accident."

"Yeah well I think I'm having a run of bad luck just lately." Virgil swallowed. He tried to study Scott wondering just what it was taking for his brother to remain so calm. If Scott was going to be angry at him, or throw this back in his face in two years time; he'd rather just get the yelling over with now and be done with it. "I err…" Virgil took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. "I thought you'd be mad. You have a right to be; I know how much you care about that car Scott."

"Yeah well, not as much as I care about you," Scott's reply came before he'd thought the words through. When Virgil's head shot up to meet his gaze, it seemed he was as surprised as his brother was at his choice of vocabulary.

A few awkward seconds passed; Scott fidgeted uncomfortably and Virgil shook himself in the silence that followed. "I mean it Virgil," Scott said eventually. "As long as you're okay, I don't give a damn about the car."

Virgil nodded even if it did feel more than a little uncomfortable hearing those words from his brother's lips. "How did it go with Al?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Scott looked at him blankly, the lights were only dim but Virgil could see from Scott's expression alone that he didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Sure enough, Scott's mystified reply came, "How did what go with Al?"

"The homework," Virgil replied, he knew full well that there had never been any homework and that it was just an excuse.

"Oh," Scott nodded in realisation. "Yeah, okay," he replied taking a sip of the hot drink in front of him. "It was okay," he finished lamely, unable to expand any further.

"Good," Virgil said as he sipped at his own drink, "Good."

A few more seconds of silence passed before either of them spoke again.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," Virgil broke the silence uneasily. "I owe you an apology." He smirked, "Well actually, probably more than one." His smiled faded, "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier." He fiddled with his hands, "I didn't mean to snap at you; I was just really tired and I needed some sleep." His apology was genuine enough.

"Forget it," the older boy replied with a shake of his head. "Sleeping obviously helped," Scott commented. "How's the head?"

"Okay, I'm hungry though," he admitted. "Guess that's my own fault too; I should've eaten that soup."

Without comment, Scott got up and pulled a chair across to the cupboard at the far end of the room.

"What are you doing?" Virgil frowned as his brother climbed onto the chair and reached a hand up to feel about on top of the cupboard. With a triumphant grin, he brought down a purple tin. "What's that?" Virgil queried.

Scott pulled the chair back to the table and sat down. "Promise me you won't tell Grandma," he held both hands down on the lid, until Virgil nodded. Once he had confirmation, he ripped the lid off revealing chocolate liqueurs. "It's Dad's secret stash, they're not exactly filling or healthy…. but it's better than eating Grandma's leftovers. She'd have a fit if she knew we were in here eating at this hour, here… don't eat them all," he instructed as he pushed the tin in front of his brother.

With a smile of admiration, Virgil reached for one of the delicacies and bit into it. "Thanks."

"So," Scott began cautiously. After Virgil had made the effort, he felt he should return the gesture, "How come you can't sleep now? You were sleeping okay when I went to bed at half eleven."

Virgil shrugged, concentrating on eating and avoiding having to process the question, "I guess I've been sleeping a lot these past few hours; maybe I'm out of sync." He'd noticed the way Scott had leant back in his chair and was watching him critically. "I can't stop thinking now; my mind just won't shut down."

Scott hesitated, taking a good few minutes to ponder over whether to proceed with the question on his lips. Virgil had made it clear that he didn't want or need his interference anymore and Scott had to wonder if it'd be better to keep his mouth shut. Nowadays whatever they talked about always came down to one word: Sofia. More to the point where Sofia was mentioned, disagreements and unpleasantness usually followed.

He proceeded with caution.

"Oh yeah, what were you thinking about?"

"Well y'know, just stuff. At the hospital and then this afternoon, I've had a lot of time on my hands," Virgil replied vaguely.

Scott nodded but didn't say anything, unsure whether that was his cue to dig deeper. "What kind of stuff?" he swallowed.

Virgil halted and looked up to his brother, a liqueur half way to his mouth. "Nothing you'd want to hear about," he said with a sad smile. "I made my bed, now I've got to lie in it."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Scott sympathised.

"No?" Virgil shook his head. "You tried to warn me this would happen, I can hardly expect you to pick up the pieces now it has, can I?"

The older boy shrugged, noncommittally, "I'm still here, aren't I? Bloods thicker than water Virg, that isn't ever going to change." The certainty in Scott's tone was compelling and he appeared confident, even if he really wasn't.

Virgil was hesitant. Slowly he took a breath and raised his downcast eyes to Scott's once more. "I don't suppose she's called, has she?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Scott was surprised at the question; Virgil had always been so guarded about his relationship with Sofia that he hadn't expected this directness. "No," Scott stumbled out. "I'm sorry, she hasn't." He hesitated; now Virgil had set the standard, he felt safe in voicing the question on his lips. "Did you really think she would?"

Virgil shrugged again. "I don't know," he admitted as he looked into the mug in his hands. "I guess I thought she might."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then again, I don't know what I'd say even if she did call," he shook his head.

Scott studied Virgil for a few minutes, wondering just what his brother was expecting him to say. He felt like he was walking a tightrope; one wrong move could send him plummeting to the ground. He didn't want to appear as if he were interfering, then Virgil would blow up at him again. Yet, at the same time, he needed to let Virgil know that he could talk to him, without appearing too distant.

"So that's what you've been thinking about," Scott acknowledged. He paused and chose his words carefully. "So err… did you decide on anything

"No," Virgil admitted, his tone glum. "Half of me feels so angry at her Scott, I just want to… I want to hurt her,"

He began to wring his hands together in an outward display of the frustration he felt. Wincing at the pain it caused, he pulled his hands apart. "And I know that's wrong; I know I shouldn't feel like that."

He shook his head in despair, "I can't help it."

Scott nodded with understanding, "It's perfectly natural to feel like that; she hurt you, of course you're going to be angry." He pushed further, "Virgil, you've got every right to be angry at her."

"It's not just her though," Scott was filled with apprehension at the comment, wondering if he'd pushed too far. "I'm angry at me too, for not listening to what people were telling me."

Scott sighed in relief as Virgil continued.

"I mean, look at us!" he exclaimed. "She's already come between us." He rubbed a hand over his eyes, "I've let her come between us."

Scott smiled at the use of the past tense, all tension forgotten. "Hey, we're talking now aren't we?" he pointed out. "Nothing will ever come between us Virg, because we won't let it; not Sofia, not anything. Right?"

Virgil mumbled a reply. Not satisfied, Scott repeated, "Right?"

"Not anything?" Virgil asked, his eyes seeking his brothers once more. "Not even space?"

Scott frowned. "Space?" he questioned. "I don't understand, what do you mean?"

"Nothing." Virgil shook his head, "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does." Scott countered, "Come on, explain."

"No, it doesn't matter." Virgil shrugged, "It's silly."

"Virgil," Scott sighed leaning forward and trying to catch Virgil's downcast gaze. "Don't clam up on me now. It does matter, and I'll bet it's not silly, so just tell me." His words didn't seem to have much effect on Virgil, so he tried again. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter; just tell me."

"I err…" Virgil coughed and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "I don't…" He trailed off, muttering the rest of the sentence. He looked up to Scott nervously, unsure whether his brother had heard or not. Scott sat forward further, eager to hear his reply. He waited patiently, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

Virgil swallowed, "I don't want you to go back."

It took Scott a moment for the words to sink in. He sat back, frowning at the change in Virgil' attitude. He had a feeling this was more than what had happened with Sofia, "What's brought all this on?"

Virgil shrugged and fiddled with the tablecloth edges, as Scott had done the night before. "I've been thinking about stuff, that's all. All this, it's made me realise things, y'know… " he pulled a face at Scott's frown.

Unsure how to respond to that, Scott resorted to stating the obvious, "Virg, I have to go back."

"I know," Virgil ran his uninjured hand over his face. "It's just it's not the same without you here." He shrugged, unsure of how to phrase his words correctly, "I don't always like it."

"Why haven't you said something before?" Scott frowned. He hated to think that Virgil was unhappy; John's words came back to him and he began to wish he'd questioned his blonde brother in a more comprehensive manner.

Virgil shook his head, "I don't know. I thought thing's would change, that I'd adjust and it'd get better, but it didn't." He looked to the table, not wanting to face his brother, "It got worse."

"John said you were feeling a bit low, but whenever I called you always seemed okay." Scott leaned forward on the table again. "If you were feeling so bad, why didn't you say something? You let me believe that you were okay."

Virgil sniffed, "I didn't want to ruin it for you. Whenever you called, you were always so happy; you've got new friends, a new lifestyle."

"That doesn't mean things have to change between us," Scott emphasised. "Sure, I have new friends and I do new things but I haven't got any new brother's have I? And I don't have any friends or do anything that is more important than you." He shook his head in exactly the same way Virgil had, "You should have told me it was hard for you."

"Maybe," Virgil agreed. "But things have changed between us, haven't they?"

Scott nodded his head with clear reluctance. "Only because you don't talk to me anymore."

"It's not all my fault," Virgil responded defensively. "You're the one that went away!"

"I didn't mean it like that," Scott replied, defusing the situation before it turned into another confrontation. "Let's not argue, huh?" Virgil nodded and so he went on. Knowing how sensitive his brother could be at times, he continued with care.

"John said that you seeing Sofia, made you a lot happier. Did it?"

"I guess so," Virgil sighed. "She was so different; when I was with her, I was the furthest away I could possibly be from things here." He shook his head, "And it felt so good; it was what I needed, to just get away from how I felt. Does that make any sense?"

Scott nodded and tired to smile but inside he was upset that it had taken Virgil this long to come to him about how he felt.

"How did you feel?" he asked, unsure whether he wanted an answer to that question and unsure whether Virgil would even give one.

Virgil hesitated and Scott considered that he might be wandering into territory that he didn't want to discuss.

"Lonely," he said finally. "I felt really alone; I could sit in a room full of people and still feel lost. It was like I didn't fit in anymore." He stopped but quickly carried on, "And before you say it, I know it's stupid and I know Dad and everyone loves me; but I just couldn't help it."

Running a hand over his face, he confessed, "Sofia made me feel … I don't know, I guess the more I knew Grandma didn't like her and then you… it just made me want her even more." He looked up at his brother. Expecting Scott to be frowning or judging him in some other way, he was surprised at the empathy in his brother's eyes.

Nervously, he stumbled on.

"She made me… she made me forget stuff and I liked that, I liked the way she's the complete opposite of what you expect and the fact she doesn't give a damn about anything…"

He smiled at fond memories, that had become somewhat tainted. "Or anyone," he finished.

"So what are you saying; she was a distraction?" Scott asked, trying hard to understand. "Are things that bad here?"

Virgil avoided the question, "She made me happy; I really cared about her and I thought she cared about me." He looked up at his brother and Scott could see just how torn he was.

"That's why there's a part of me that just wants to forget it ever happened and to carry on as normal." He admitted; his voice sad and low. "I know it's naïve to think I could do that, but I just don't want it to end."

"That wouldn't happen to be the other half of you, would it?" Scott asked with a grin, trying to lighten Virgil's despondency.

Virgil carried on, ignoring the comment. "I know it's weak that I don't want things to change, even after all this, I know I should." Virgil bowed his head. "You think it's feeble and that I'm pathetic, don't you?"

"No," Scott shook his head. He tried to convey just how wrong Virgil was. "Of course I don't, you're not pathetic Virgil."

"Well, I do." Virgil replied absolutely. "It is pathetic; everything inside me is screaming out, telling me to finish it now but there's this little part of me that keeps reminding me that if I finish with her, I'm on my own again."

Scott licked his lips, "Would that be so bad, really?" he suggested. "I mean, being single has its advantages; no ties, no one else to think about."

"I don't just mean on my own in the relationship sense though." Virgil said quietly as he leant forward and sipped at his drink.

"Virgil, you can call me anytime, you know that; you're not on your own." Scott was deeply disturbed that his brother could think that in the first place. "Maybe we haven't talked enough since I left for college. Why don't we speak to Dad and see what he says about me coming home more often, or maybe you could come stay with me?"

"Dad would say that you're there to study and that I should get used to things here; and he's right. In a couple of year's time, I'm going to be going to college too. We can't be together forever." Virgil shook his head again, "Besides, I don't want to cramp your style; it won't look good, having your little brother hanging around."

"Virgil, I don't know what to do," Scott sighed. "In one breath you're telling me you're not happy at home when I'm not here, but in the next you're telling me you don't want me to come home either!" He smiled and raised his hands, "I'm always here, even if it has to be on the other end of the 'phone. And you can come stay with me anytime you want; you just have to say the word."

"Thanks Scott," the younger man reached for another liqueur. "You think I should finish it, don't you?" he asked pensively.

"With Sofia?" Scott asked. "Only you can decide that," he said. "You need to work out what you're going to do though."

"I don't know what to do," Virgil shrugged his shoulders. "This sounds stupid but I can't believe she'd do this to me; I just can't get my head around it. I thought she really cared about me, but she didn't at all. How can you be so wrong about someone?" he mused. "I always thought I was a good judge of character; that's why I was so sure you guys were wrong about her."

"You are a good judge of character; you've just had a bit of a wobble that's all," Scott told him trying not to sound like he was patronising him. "You said yourself you weren't at your best when she came along."

"I can't believe she hasn't called to check I'm okay," Virgil said miserably. "As far as she knows, I could've crashed the car on the way to Rob's and be dead in a ditch somewhere."

Scott scowled at him, shaking his head, "Don't say things like that."

"It's true though, isn't it?" Virgil sighed, his tone sad and disgruntled. "She really doesn't care at all, otherwise she'd have called, wouldn't she?"

"I know it's hard," Scott sympathised. "But you could do so much better Virg," he suggested carefully.

"You think?" Virgil scoffed. His tone belied his doubt.

"Absolutely! The reason you feel so insecure is that you've gotten too reliant on her. It's all about confidence; girls like confident guys." Scott gave his brother the benefit of his own experience, "There are loads of girls out there that would jump at the chance to have a guy like you, trust me on this okay?"

Virgil smiled at the attempted flattery.

"Look, I know what Sofia's done has hurt you, but it could've been worse."

"Yeah?" Virgil asked, "Remind me of how?"

Scott was hoping he wouldn't have to, and cringed as he tried to think of how to voice his thoughts without actually saying any of it aloud. "Well the way you were talking to her on the 'phone last night, I thought maybe you were about to do something stupid," he replied as tactfully as he could. "At least you found out before you did something you might've regretted."

He tried to save Virgil's dignity by avoiding discussing the specifics.

Virgil only raised his hands to catch his head as it dropped. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing the following conversation could become painfully embarrassing for the both of them. "What if I did?"

Scott's mouth dropped, he swallowed and tried to recover. "Did what?" he asked, needing confirmation.

"I think you know what," Virgil frowned, bracing himself to look at his brother. "Something stupid."

As soon as their eyes met, Scott sighed and looked away in astonishment. "When?"

"A couple of weeks ago," Virgil admitted awkwardly. He defended his actions immediately, having seen the expression on Scott's face. "She's older, that's one of the things I like… liked about her so much. She treats me like an adult and she expected me to act like an adult too."

Scott frowned at his brother's choice of vocabulary, "Y'know, girls aren't always as innocent as they make out when it comes to this kind of thing; they can be pretty manipulative. Did she pressurise you into anything?"

"No," Virgil shook his head. "No, I wanted to."

Scott hesitated, reminded again of his brother sensitivity; he tried to be tactful in his reply. "But now, you wish you hadn't?"

"No, I can't say that; it felt right at the time." Virgil leant forward, taking another liqueur.

He was surprised how easily this was coming out; he'd expected Scott to ask in one way or another, but he'd also anticipated long silences and awkwardness. As it was, the words flowed and he felt Scott understood what he was saying.

"I don't regret it; it's just now I know what I know, it kind of demeans it all." He ran a hand over his head, "It makes me wonder if it ever meant anything to her."

Scott shook his head, his expression one of sadness. He was still getting over the shock. "I always thought you'd talk to me, when …" he nodded his head, gesturing and not needing to expand further. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed that you didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell anyone Scott," Virgil finished off the drink in his hands.

"Did you use…"

"Yes!" Virgil cut in quickly. In his mind his father's words played over.

_I'm not going to say I approve of that, but at least have the sense to protect yourself. _

"So, you're being responsible?" Scott asked warily.

"Yes," Virgil smiled, again his father's words played in his head.

_It's important that you're responsible. It's when you start being irresponsible that accidents happen. And we don't want any little accidents. _

Virgil laughed to himself and shook his head. "You know, you're so like Dad, it's unbelievable."

"It's not funny Virg, I'm being serious here," Scott objected. "It's a big thing and you need to be aware of all the possibilities; if you're going to continue to do this you have to be responsible and you have to be prepared to face the consequences."

"I am," Virgil assured him. "Besides, there's no chance of me 'being responsible' now is there? Well, not any time soon anyway."

"Does that mean Sofia's a thing of the past?" Scott asked, hopeful that Virgil was not only banishing Sofia but also the awkwardness between them.

"I guess so," Virgil smiled and tried to appear decisive.

"Good," Scott smiled back.

There was a brief moment of quiet, before Scott leaned forward.

"We're never going to let this happen again, okay? Whatever it is, we talk about it. Deal?"

"Deal," Virgil pledged with a nod. "Everything's going wrong at the minute."

"No," Scott shook his head. "Bad things happen in threes; you've had your run of back luck. What else could go wrong?"

"You think all this was down to bad luck?" Virgil shook his head, "How do you figure that?"

"Well, first there was the incident with the computer; that was bad luck." Scott stated, "Then there was the car; that was definitely bad luck and then you were in the wrong time at the wrong place when you saw Sofia; that was bad luck too. That's three," Scott told him certainly. "Trust me, it was just a run of bad luck; you've had your three things go wrong. Thing's will get better now."

Virgil frowned and got up to rinse his mug out, he leant against the sink in contemplation. "Hmm, yeah," he thought aloud. "Okay, I concede the point about the car being bad luck, but Sofia and the computer were bad judgement, nothing to do with luck."

"Come on Virg," Scott shrugged. "The computer was definitely bad luck; what are the odds that you'd knock that glass over and that it'd fall that way? And seeing Sofia with that other guy was just being in the wrong place at the wrong time; that was definitely bad luck."

"Or good luck, depending on how you see it," Virgil raised an eyebrow. His head shot across to the door, as he heard footsteps on the stairs. Glancing at his watch, he looked up to Scott. "It's half five," he said. "That's going to be Dad getting up."

"Dad?" Scott exclaimed, glancing up at the kitchen clock to check for himself. "Here, help me hide these…" He trailed off when he looked inside the tin. "You ate them all!" he exclaimed incredulously. "I told you not to!" he screeched. "Help me put the tin back, grab that chair. Quick!"

"Now that's bad luck Scott." Virgil briefly glanced at the doorway. "You're on your own," he smiled from his place, leant against the sink. "Revenge," he said smugly.

"Revenge?" Scott asked. "Revenge for what?" he frowned. The sounds of his father making his way towards them had Scott hoping from foot to foot; desperately searching the kitchen for a hiding place for the empty tin.

"For whatever you said to Father, to have him feel the need to subject me to an hour long lecture about safe sex tonight," Virgil said from the sink, a grin highlighting features that had been dark of late.

"Virgil," The younger brother's grin widened at Scott's stricken expression as he glanced between the door and his brother. "If Dad finds out you've eaten his hand made, chocolate liqueurs he's going to be equally mad with you."

"Liqueurs?" Virgil grinned, shrugging and pulling a blank expression, he raised his fingers to his ears as if he hadn't heard. "What liqueurs? I don't know anything about any liqueurs; I don't even know wherehe hides them!"

"Why you…" Scott waggled a finger at his brother in disbelief, though secretly he was pleased to see him smile. "You little…" his head snapped up as his father appeared at the door. In a flash, the hands with which he held the tin were behind his back. "Father!" he exclaimed.

"Hmm, Good morning boys," Jeff yawned as he made his way over to the kettle; he flicked the switch and turned to study both his sons. "You're both up early. How are you feeling Virgil?"

"Oh fine Father," Virgil's sickly sweet grin widened even further. "I'm feeling just great." He avoided Scott's hasty eye movements, gesturing for him to collect the tin from behind his back.

"Scott, why are you stood like that?" Jeff frowned at him.

"Oh, err," Scott feigned rubbing his back. "Must've fallen asleep on the couch; I've got a stiff back that's all."

Virgil's incredulous snort drew Jeff's attention and he looked between them suspiciously. "What are you two up to?" he asked.

"Oh nothing Father," Scott assured him. "We were just talking, that's all."

The expression on Scott's face when he thought he'd have to reveal all was more than satisfying and Virgil's laughed at his predicament; he knew Scott would be able to talk his way out of this one easily but it still felt good. Stretching, he cracked his fingers and announced, "I think I'll go get a shower."

"Okay Son," Jeff nodded. As he turned his back to make the coffee, Virgil stealthily walked behind Scott, taking the tin from his hands and concealing until he was out of sight.

He waited in the lounge for Scott to make his excuses and follow. Sure enough a few minutes later, his older brother burst into the room.

Scott heaved a sigh of relief; "You really had me there," he admitted.

"You didn't really think I'd let you face Dad on your own did you?" Virgil grinned, "Come on Scott, you know me better than that." Scott smiled, concluding that yes, he did. "We'll put the tin back later and he'll never know it was us," Virgil suggested.

He paused, looking up to his brother thoughtfully. "For what it's worth I'm sorry, for the way things have been."

Scott followed. "Me too," he agreed with a content smile. "Me too."

In the kitchen, Jeff settled down at the table with his coffee. Leaning forward, he found a very distinctive piece of silver foil and held it up to the light. Recognising the wrapping immediately, he turned to the cupboard, where his secret reserve was housed. With a frown and the paper wrapping still in his hand, he stood on tip-toes and reached a hand to run above the top of the cupboard. He was unsurprised to find a big gap where his tin should have been.

Suddenly everything clicked into place; Virgil's hasty exit, Scott' strange stance and the weird behaviour they'd both engaged in.

He opened his mouth to call them back and quiz them on the missing tin and subsequently absent liqueurs. However, he hesitated and a smile crept onto his features. Maybe he was going soft or maybe this weekend had shaken him up more than he gave it credit for, but for whatever reason he sat back at the table.

He may not have his wife to love anymore, he mused decidedly, but he was grateful for the legacy she left him in their sons. His mother had been right; Valentines was about love but more significantly, it was about realising how important the people you love are and prioritising them above all else.

His sons were his priority; they were more important to him than anything.

When he thought about what he could've lost this weekend, suddenly chocolate liqueurs didn't seem all that important...

XxxxX

_**Happy Valentines Day Everyone!**_

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who has given me feedback, in one way or another, for this piece of writing. I appreciate you taking the time to let me knowyour thoughts about my writing. Special thanks to **_Agent Five_** for confirming my medical facts were viable and **_MCJ_** for her support, inspiration and invaluable help!


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